


The Cast Shadow

by TheUnicornFountain



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnicornFountain/pseuds/TheUnicornFountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Dark Link origin story.</p><p>Within the Well of Three Features, an evil idles, waiting for its chance to escape. Yet it's hardly the only malevolent force in Hyrule, and the boy called Dark finds himself stuck between one evil and another as he hopes to discover an answer about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Dark Pall

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the _Ocarina of Time_ universe with a _Minish Cap_ cameo. Amnesia is a trope and can be a crutch, yet an empty head is ripe for manipulation, which is the main focus of this fanfiction. 
> 
> Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are always appreciated. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -The Cast Shadow-

### A Dark Pall

The acrid smoke filling the pass to Kakariko Village burned Link’s nose and throat, forcing him to hold an arm over his face. For the faithful blue-white fairy flying over his shoulder, flying was difficult. Ash and sparks flitted through the air, threatening Navi’s fragile wings. In desperation, she sought the shelter of her partner’s collar. The ride there was anything but smooth, especially when Link doubled his pace up the stone steps of the pass. He stumbled several times in his haste and fell once, hard enough to rattle Navi’s teeth.

“Careful, Link!” Navi chided, although she understood his hurry. Kakariko Village was burning, and the plight of the village called out to the hero in Link.

The fires turned out to be only one of the worries. When Link and Navi reached the village, they saw Sheik--a proven ally--standing before the village’s well. While flames worked on consuming some of the structures in the village, Sheik appeared calm. He was staring down into the well. Link ran closer to him and noticed that it wasn’t calm putting the stillness in Sheik’s body. It was fear and anger. 

Link was within a few strides of Sheik when a piece of the well was flung into the air by an invisible, powerful force. It sailed up and over Link, nearly catching him in the head when it arched through the air. It fell to the ground far behind him and broke apart. 

“Sheik, be careful!” Link shouted, yet the warning came too late. The same invisible force picked Sheik up and whipped him about as if he was nothing more than a dry leaf. After a few seconds, the Sheikah was tossed as well. He hit the ground with a grunt of pain. Link rushed out to him to see if he was injured. 

“Link!” Navi called, shooting out of Link’s collar as he crouched down by Sheik. Link raised his head, and Navi swooped back and forth to draw his attention to the darkness streaming out of the well. It swept up and began to move across the burning rooftops as a living, black cloud. From the rooftops, it streamed down the side of one of the remnant fort walls that surrounded Kakariko Village. When it touched the ground, it gained speed and slithered towards Sheik and Link.

Link stepped in front of Sheik, drawing the Master Sword as he did. 

Navi’s heart momentarily stopped; Link was no match for this evil shadow. “No, Link!” she cried, and she dove to his collar once more to pull on it in desperation. “Not even the Master Sword can pierce such a creature! You have to run, or it will attack you, too!”

“I can’t leave Sheik defenseless,” Link argued. He raised his shield and braced himself. His sword was drawn back in preparation to attack.

“Link, be selfish for once!” Navi begged. “The world will fall without you!”

Link ignored her. When Navi attempted to pull his ears, he shook his head to brush her off as if she was a common fly. The shadow fell on them a second later, and for a while there was only pain and darkness.

#

Between Navi and Link, it was the fairy that wakened first. She opened her eyes to see rain falling around her. It struck her body like pebbles, and she had to shake her wings free of clinging water before she was able to kick off into the air. 

Sheik, looking unhurt, was crouched by Link. The Hero of Time was still unconscious. Navi flew to his collar and pressed her warmth against his neck. Link stirred at the touch, groaning.

Sheik sighed in relief. “Looks like you’re coming around. How do you feel?”

“Like a dodongo chewed me up,” Link replied. Sheik chuckled and helped him to sit up. A spark of dark sorcery crackled over Link’s body, and Sheik drew his arm away. Link grimaced and asked, “What was that?”

Navi had felt it as well. It had sent a tremble through her body as it passed over her. “I don’t know,” she spoke up from Link’s collar, “but it can’t be good. I told you not to act the hero for once, Link! You could have died!”

“I have nearly died several times already,” Link reminded his fairy companion. “Yet here I am, still alive.” He winced when a second spark passed over him.

Sheik’s eyes narrowed in a smile. “And I appreciate the noble act. The shadow of Bongo-Bongo was so preoccupied with you and Navi that I was able to deter it away with my own power.” He turned his head towards the distant entrance to Kakariko’s graveyard. “It disappeared in the direction of the Shadow Temple, which rests below the graveyard. 

“The Shadow Temple,” Link murmured. He sighed next. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Sheik shook his head. “It’s as bad as it sounds--worse, in fact. That place was once a sacred temple, but Kakariko’s dark history attracted monsters and demons to the place. It is now a corrupted sanctuary, filled with deceptions and tricks to trap any who dare enter it. And Bongo-Bongo is a manifestation of pure hatred and darkness himself. He is living ill intent, and now he has escaped his prison in the well and is loose upon the world. Link…” Sheik turned back to the green-clad hero. “You must enter the Shadow Temple and destroy Bongo-Bongo. Impa, the once-nurse to Princess Zelda, is the Shadow Sage. She will be in the temple at this time, praying to the Goddesses for salvation from Ganondorf. Bongo-Bongo will kill her and many more once he has drawn enough power from that dark place.”

“How--” Link paused to shudder through another spark of sorcery. “How do I destroy him? The Master Sword had no effect on him.”

Again, Sheik smiled with his eyes. “I have the solution for that. You must force Bongo-Bongo to take on a physical form that you can see and attack. In order to do that, you need to study him through the Lens of Truth. However, the Lens at this time is out of reach. It lies deep in the well--a well whose inner structure is now made impassable by Bongo-Bongo’s destructive escape.”

Navi’s wings dipped. “So we’re out of luck?”

Sheik shook his head. “No. I said _at this time_ the Lens is unreachable. Yet remember what I told you when we met in the Temple of Time, after you awakened Saria, the Forest Sage: The Master Sword can be used to return to your original time. Place the sword in its plinth and you will be transported back seven years into the past. At such a point, the well will still be intact, and Bongo-Bongo will be secured. You can enter the well and seek out the Lens of Truth. Then it is only a matter of returning here by taking up the Master Sword again.”

Navi rose into the air, ignoring the pelting rain. She glared at Sheik, although the Sheikah could not see the expression behind the fairy’s light. “Only a matter of returning here!” Navi repeated in a high voice. “It’s easy for you to say come and go, do this and that, risk your life here and there! All you ever do is appear, teach Link a pretty song, and then disappear again! You’re never of any _real_ help! Any of those places you taught us to warp to, Link can reach on his own two feet!”

“Not this time,” Sheik replied in his usual, impassive way. “You can’t reach the Shadow Temple or the destination after without my _pretty songs.”_

“Oh, so after three temples and numerous close encounters with death, you’re finally willing to be of some help. Took you long enough!”

“Na--” Link was cut off when the sorcery sparked over him again.

Navi turned her anger onto him. “And you, you’re worse than Sheik! You keep putting your life at risk, putting others before yourself, when you’re the only one who can save this world!”

Link clenched his fists. “Shut up, Navi, you don’t understand!” he snapped, and his blue eyes blazed with hatred. “You’re just a stupid, loud, annoying fairy!”

Navi dropped a few inches through the air before she remembered to flap her wings. “Is that what you really think of me?” she asked in a trembling voice. Link didn’t answer her. He looked away and glared at nothing while the dark energy crackled over him.

“No, Navi, that’s not what he thinks of you,” Sheik spoke up. “He doesn’t have the protection of Sheikah or fairy magic, so he’s been affected by Bongo-Bongo’s ill intent. He’s not thinking clearly, and he doesn’t care if his harsh words hurt others. The good news is this will only be temporary. Once you two are clear of Kakariko, the effects should start to wear off. It’s likely they will be gone by the time you reach the Temple of Time.”

“You… You’re sure?” Navi pressed. Sheik replied with a confident nod. Navi’s anger was washed away by overwhelming gratitude. “Okay. Come on, Link, let’s get that Lens of Truth.”

Link rose to his feet and shot another dark look at Navi. “You forget--I still need to learn the song that will take me to the Shadow Temple.” His words were punctuated by winces when the dark energy passed over him. Navi didn’t like seeing Link this way. It made her angry again to think on how much of a fool he was to allow this to happen to him. Despite the assurance that the effects would be temporary, it still boiled her blood.

Things didn’t improve on the journey back to the decimated Castle Town. Link was sullen, and his words had a sharp edge whenever he answered Navi’s questions about his condition. Navi often had to reign in her desire to dive at his head and tear out a few hairs. 

When Link and Navi reached the Master Sword chamber in the Temple of Time, the fairy marked the evil magic still crossing Link’s body. “You’re sparking more than before,” she remarked, uneasy.

“Yeah?” Link snapped back. A line of dark energy traveled down his right leg. “Maybe it’s because you keep irritating me with your stupid remarks!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Navi shot back. “I didn’t do this to you! In fact, if you care to remember, I was the one who told you to get out of Bongo-Bongo’s way!”

“So you would have had me stand aside while Sheik gets hurt--killed, even?”

“Better him than you! You’re--”

“Hyrule’s savior?” Link finished. “The Hero of Time? Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. Numerous times.” He scowled and crossed the last few feet to the Master Sword’s plinth. “It makes me wonder why I keep you around. If I’m the savior, I hardly need you hovering over my head, telling me things I already know.”

Navi nearly dropped out of the air in shock. “You… You don’t mean that,” she said in a trembling voice that was a far cry from her earlier shouts. “You’re just under Bongo-Bongo’s influence right now.”

Link gave no reply, and his eyes did not soften. He turned his back to Navi to focus on the plinth at his feet. The Master Sword was unsheathed and raised up, point down.

Navi realized Link was about to depart without her. She took up her usual spot in his collar just as the Master Sword was dropped into the plinth. A blue light bloomed around her and Link, and the Temple of Time began to fade into a white landscape.

“You don’t mean that!” Navi shouted over the whirl of light and sound that was circling her and Link. She rose up above the Hylian’s shrinking head and continued, “You’re not thinking clearly! We should take some time to rest and allow you to return to normal before we get the Lens!”

“I’m not wasting any time sitting around with you!” Link shouted in a voice that was steadily growing higher. His adult body was shrinking to that of a ten-year-old. “Just keep your ideas to yourself from now on, you stupid fairy!”

 _He doesn’t mean that,_ Navi’s common sense reminded her. It felt like the hundredth time she had told herself those words since she and Link departed Kakariko Village--a moment that was now seven years in the future. The younger, brighter Temple of Time was solidifying around her and Link beyond the white haze. Navi knew as soon as Link took in the sights of the still-whole Castle Town, his mood would improve. He would shake off the shadow hanging over his mind, and things would be back to normal between them.

Yet what Navi knew and what she felt were two different things. She felt hurt and angry, and these feelings overrode her more sensible thoughts. She was only a fairy; she could do only so much to punish Link for hurting her. It would be enough for her to know he got the message. So as the details of the Temple of Time fell into place, Navi dove at Link and attacked his cheek with as much of her strength as she could muster.

Admittedly, it was a small spark of pain compared to the bruises and wounds Link had suffered over his adventure. Yet the suddenness of the attack startled a cry out of him. His instinctive response was to reach up with his left hand to swipe the fairy away. When the hand left the hilt of the still-settling Master Sword, a spark of energy traveled along the hero’s clenched right hand and down the blade of the weapon.

The world _jumped._ Both Navi and Link felt it. The air around them felt disturbed, like a horde of feeding flies that had taken flight with sudden, buzzing intensity. A tinny whistle cut the air, and the steadying temple momentarily darkened. When it came into existence again, Link gasped. He saw… but no. It was a trick of the blue light that was surrounding him again. 

A final, dying spark of Bongo-Bongo’s dark power traveled over Link from head to foot. The world _jumped_ again in its final moments before regaining solidity, and the tinny whistle repeated. When it died, Link was blasted away from the Master Sword. He hit the stone steps leading up to the plinth and blacked out.

#

“Get up!” 

“…mhn… What…”

“I said get _up,_ Link!”

“I…” Link opened his eyes and immediately wished he had kept them closed. The light was harsh on his eyes after the few minutes he had spent unconscious, and the tinny whistle was still in his ears. It warped every sound into a sharp concussion to his mind. His body ached as well--no surprise, given he was lying across several hard, stone steps. Their sharp angles dug into his chest, limbs, and cheek. It made sitting up difficult when his bruised body was forced to work. Link looked down at himself with weary eyes and found he was ten years old again. He next raised his head to look up at the fluttering fairy hovering over him. For what felt like the longest time, he couldn’t remember the fairy’s name. He knew it was a friend, but it took him a minute until he could say, “Navi?”

“We need to get moving, Link,” the fairy urged. “We need to get the Lens of Truth. Do you remember?”

Link did, but only after the tinny whistle faded; and he had to _work_ at remembering. It was so strange, but he found he could barely recall anything of value. Navi’s name was often lost in his confused mind, and he had to continuously remind himself of who she was if he wanted the knowledge to stick. Even his own name drifted in and out of his thoughts. He was sure he’d forget it altogether if Navi didn’t keep repeating it. 

“We need to get moving, Link,” Navi insisted again. The young hero hadn’t yet stood up. “Let’s get going, okay? Let’s get to Kakariko Village.”

“I… I feel so lost.” Lin turned his head to get some sort of bearing. He could half-remember what place he was in, and he was certain if he got a good look around he’d know for sure.

Navi appeared before Link’s searching eyes, and she coaxed his gaze forward again. “Link, if you’re feeling lost, just keep your eyes on me. Don’t look around or anything. You’re confused right now. You’re rattled. But I’m going to help you. I’m… I’m going to make things better, okay? Just trust me.”

There was a faint tremble to Navi’s voice. It was as if she was deeply frightened, or deeply saddened. Link couldn’t tell which, but he knew he could trust his faithful companion. He remembered that much. He nodded and smiled, and Navi repeated, “Just trust me. Stay focused on me. You’ll be better in a while when you’ve had some… time to adjust.”

“Okay… Navi,” Link replied with only a slight pause when he had to recall the fairy’s name again. “We’re going after the Lens of Truth, right?” he asked. Navi rose and fell in her version of a nod. “Lead the way.” Navi soared up higher and flew straight for the temple exit. Link followed loyally behind her without a look back.

Castle Town was a bustling, colorful mass of activity. Merchants and performers called out to Link when he passed by them, and he often stopped. Yet there was no time to waste, as Navi kept reminding him, and so the two of them zigged and zagged their way through the crowds to the quieter space of Hyrule Field. Not much time was spent there either before Link and Navi climbed the pass to Kakariko Village. There was no fire this time; that unfortunate occurrence was seven years in the future. At this point in time, many of the buildings were only half-built, and the general atmosphere of the village was quiet and welcoming.

“Where’s the Lens?” Link asked Navi once he and the fairy reached the lone tree growing in Kakariko Village. Link was sure he knew the answer to his question at one point. He vaguely remembered… someone… telling him the information… sometime. Yet the memory could no longer be recalled. This unsettled Link, but Navi’s unwavering confidence and steady reassurance swept away his uneasiness.

“The Lens is this way,” Navi replied. Link followed her small, glowing form across the grass, past the Well of Three Features, and into the graveyard. The atmosphere here was far different from the village proper. While the front of the graveyard was merely spooky, a dark shadow hung over the rear where the Royal Family’s tomb lay. Link and Navi came to a stop at the hole that marked the entrance to the tomb. Together, they gazed down into the hole’s dark depths.

Link felt a familiar tug when he thought on this place. “Haven’t we been down here before?” he asked his fairy companion. “Didn’t we sing or play something? A song?”

“Yes,” Navi confirmed after a slight pause. “But the Lens of Truth is down there, too.”

Link didn’t doubt Navi despite the numerous questions on the tip of his tongue such as, Why didn’t Navi have him grab the Lens of Truth that first time? And why would the Royal Family’s tomb house such an object? And why did the fairy’s casual tone sound so forced? Link’s trust in his partner silenced these questions. With his trademark courage, he jumped down into the hole and landed hard on the packed ground at the bottom of it. Navi followed him into the tomb, and Link lit the cold torches within it once the fairy reminded him of the spell for Din’s Fire.

The refreshed torches revealed a wide room with a broken stone floor and a scattering of bones, both animal and Hylian. Skeletons lay within alcoves carved into the walls; many of them still wore their royal garb. Groundwater dripped down from the ceiling into shallow pools on the warped floor, and keese fluttered in their sleep in the room’s dark corners. On the far side, a steep staircase led up to a locked steel door. A cold torch sat on either side of the door. They hid heat-sensitive switches within their briquettes. When Link lit them with another cast of Din’s Fire, the steel door was unlocked. It slid up into the wall, revealing a dark, rectangular opening that led to the tomb’s inner chambers.

“Almost there!” Link said with a smile as he dusted ash from his palms. He stepped over the threshold of the opened door and took a few steps down the sloping hall beyond it. He stopped after four steps when he realized he was walking deeper into shadow. Where was Navi? Her light was as bright as any torch. Link called, “Navi!” and spun around in search of his friend.

Navi was still on the other side of the door, hovering in the air between the torches. When Link focused on her, she said in a toneless voice, “I’m sorry, but… I lied to you.”

Link frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“The Lens of Truth is not in this tomb. I lied. I led you here for a different purpose.”

“I don’t understand,” Link said, and he took a step back towards Navi. With a sudden, fierce flap of her wings, the fairy blew out one of the torches. The door dropped a few inches out of the wall. Link sucked in a startled breath and called, “Navi!” His voice was strained with fear. He didn’t dare take another step forward. Perhaps he could convince Navi. If he could set things right… She was obviously upset…

“I’m not surprised you don’t understand what’s happening,” Navi continued, still in her toneless voice. Or was it so toneless after all? Was there a hint of sadness in it? “After all, I’m sure you’re deeply confused. It doesn’t help that your memories are fading faster than you can replace them. But maybe that’s for the best. You’ll die in ignorance, and ignorance is bliss, as you Hylians are so fond of saying. So I can’t feel bed for leaving you here because I know it’s better than what you would have faced if you hadn’t left the Temple of Time before…” She trailed off into a troubled silence.

Instead of clearing things, Navi’s words were confusing Link more and more. “Please tell me what’s going on,” Link begged through growing tears. “We’re supposed to get the Lens of Truth, right? So let’s forget all this and we’ll get the Lens together.”

“You want to know what’s going on?” Navi asked, and Link nodded. “You want the truth? Here’s the truth: You are a mistake. A mistake I must cover up so that the world can be saved. I can’t have a hero distracted by the fate of some twisted avatar.” She drifted closer to the second torch. “Goodbye.”

“Navi, wait--!”

With a barely-heard puff, the second torch was extinguished. The door standing between Link and freedom slammed down with an echoing boom. At once, Link ran forward and began to attack it with his fists as he screamed Navi’s name. Why was she doing this? Why had she abandoned him here in this dead-end tomb? What was all that talk about a mistake? 

_“Navi!”_ Link screamed. “Navi, let me out! Please, Navi! _Please!_ I’m sorry if I was mean to you! I’m sorry if I did something to make you mad! But please don’t leave me here! Navi! Navi! _Navi!”_

After some time, his fists grew sore and began to bleed. His throat hoarsened, and his voice quit altogether. And when the boy had rested, slumped against the cold steel door for a while, he opened his mouth to speak… nothing. He had no idea whom he was supposed to be calling. He felt he had known once, but now the memory was gone. And why was he in this dark place, which stank so strongly of death? How had he come to here? How could he get out? And, most important of all: Who was he?


	2. Discarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, our young protagonist makes his way out of the Royal Family's tomb and into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who gave the first chapter a shot. I hope you continue to read. Comments, questions, and constructive criticism from both AO3 users and anons are always appreciated.
> 
> An additional note: I've opened a beta-reading service. Please see my bio for more information.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### Discarded

Within the inner chamber of the Royal Family’s tomb, the darkness was nearly complete. Only a vague glow afforded any light, and that glow was distant. Its origin lay further ahead down the tunnel that began at the now-locked door. 

The boy who was slumped against the door had not yet started the walk that would take him to the light. He was still trying to wrap his empty mind around the conditions that he was in. He knew nothing. He could recall nothing. The place around him was foreign, and he had no idea how he had arrived to it. He was in some pain as well. His throat hurt and his knuckles bled, but he didn’t know why.

_What should I do?_ the boy wondered. So far, he was unable to find any switch or knob to open the door at his back. The only path left to him was the sloping tunnel into the dim light. _If there’s light, there may be a way out,_ the boy surmised. _Maybe I should check it out._ Decided, he started on the walk down the tunnel. 

The light grew larger but no brighter, and when the boy came out into the chamber at the end of the tunnel, he realized it was torchlight that was casting the glow. Braziers were set at regular intervals on the walls of the chamber. Their light showed too clearly the mummified corpses scattered around the room. The boy gasped at the ghastly sight, and he took a step back into the tunnel. 

_Relax, they’re only dead bodies. They can’t hurt you,_ a voice spoke up inside the boy’s head. It was a logical thought, and the boy took comfort in its truth. The dead couldn’t walk or talk, so he would be perfectly safe as he crossed the chamber. He could see another doorway on the far side. Perhaps that was the exit? The boy began to pick his slow way across the chamber. He was careful not to step on any of the corpses; not out of superstition, but out of respect.

The boy was feet away from the doorway when he heard something slide across the floor behind him. A hand clamped down around his right ankle, and a tortured moan filled the air. The boy looked down with a scream when he saw that one of the corpses had indeed come to life. It stared up at him with empty eye sockets and a gaping mouth that drooled greenish saliva. Its grip was surprisingly strong, and the boy struggled to free himself. While he thrashed, the corpse darted its head out and clamped yellowed, broken teeth into the boy’s exposed shin where his green shorts didn’t protect him. Burning pain erupted in the boy’s leg, and warm blood coursed from the wound; blood that the corpse began to drink.

The boy had experienced enough. He could feel a scabbard clapping against his back. He reached over his shoulder with a blind hand for the sword he hoped would be within the scabbard. His fingers encountered a hilt in their floundering. As the corpse sunk a second, deeper bite into his leg, the boy unsheathed the small blade and brought its edge down onto the corpse’s head. There were no more misgivings about mutilating someone’s dead body. The boy cut and stabbed at the corpse’s head until it released him with another moan. Limping, the boy escaped into the next chamber while the corpse’s laments echoed behind him.

When the boy’s eyes adjusted to the dimmer torchlight in the next room, he discovered it was a dead end. A narrow path edged with pools of poisoned water led to a great stone slab upon which words were inscribed. The boy limped to the stone and took a moment to lean against it in rest. His leg was alight in pain. He bent over to examine it and saw a green tinge around the bite mark. The skin burned at the slightest probe. Sharper pain washed over the boy’s head in a wave of lightheadedness, and for a minute he had to close his eyes and wait for the sensation to pass. Once his head was clear and his heart was calmed, the boy turned in place to study the stone at his back. The words on it were arranged into a poem. The boy spoke it aloud. _“The rising sun will eventually set. A newborn’s life will fade--”_

A moan cut in before the boy could finish the poem. He turned in place and screamed when he saw the corpse he had attacked was crawling across the chamber towards him. 

“No…” The boy scrambled back, but there was nowhere to run. He forgot the sword on his back; he forgot the other weapons stored on his person--weapons he had no recollection of obtaining. All he could do was slink into a corner of the chamber by the stone slab. He sat, paralyzed with fear, and watched the corpse work its slow way to him.

A faint breeze nudged the boy’s cheek. He turned his nose towards it, and his eyes caught sight of a narrow slit between the edge of the stone slab and the wall behind it. The boy didn’t worry about what might lay beyond the slit. He didn’t consider the fact that he might not be able to move the massive slab. His instinct took over, and the first thing it said was run. The boy leaned his weight against the side of the slab and pushed it with all the strength he could muster. He was rewarded with the sound of grating stone. The slab rested on an aged track, and while it stuck at first, it finally moved enough for the boy to squeeze behind it. The corpse’s hungry moans were cut off when the boy slid the slab back into place.

The darkness was complete in the newest chamber. However, the air was cool and fresher. The boy stretched tentative arms out to his sides and felt a rough brick wall against both hands. A hallway. He followed the unseen path with careful touches to the wall and slow shuffling of his feet. The air grew fresher with each step. Minutes passed before the hall turned. At the end of this new stretch, there was a green, flickering light. The light drew the boy, and when he came to it he found the light marked the edge of a short drop onto a new path. 

The boy slipped down to the lower path with careful attention paid to his injured leg. He followed the path’s brighter end and soon came to a room that featured a raised platform. Beyond the platform was another tunnel that led to a weathered rope ladder. It hung down the length of a vertical tunnel.

There was _sunlight_ at the top of the tunnel.

“Finally,” the boy whispered to himself, and a smile broke on his face. Despite the ladder’s frayed edges, it held his weight as he climbed, and the boy was able to put aside the pain in his leg as he ascended towards the light. At the top of the ladder, the boy’s head emerged above ground. The rest of his tired body followed it. He had come out into a graveyard. The boy rolled over onto the grass to enjoy the open air and warm light of the outside world. This sense of accomplishment and freedom drove away his lingering fears. He relished the feelings as long as he could until a spark of pain up his leg reminded him of his injury.

“I need help,” the boy decided, and he flipped over onto his stomach to push himself onto his feet. His injured leg caved beneath his weight at once. The boy seized hold of a gravestone to steady himself. He looked out across the graveyard with a face paled from pain. “There’s a village over there,” he remarked aloud. He could see rooftops rising above the graveyard’s walls. “That must mean there are people. Maybe someone can help me.”

The boy staggered between gravestones until he came across a tree branch on the ground that proved a decent crutch. With its support, he was able to hobble out of the graveyard and down a winding path to the village. Coming to it, he discovered everything was wet and glistening from a recent rainstorm. The boy started across the wet grass in search of a villager. 

He soon came across a dried-up well. The well’s bottom couldn’t be seen when the boy looked over the side. A ladder embedded in the inside wall led down to the darkness that coated the bottom of the well. The boy gave the darkness a look, but the sound of footsteps dragged his eyes away. He turned around and saw a hunched man walk by. A hand organ was strapped to his back.

“Hey!” the boy called. “Can you help me?”

The man turned at the call. When he spied the boy, his narrow eyes narrowed further before opening wide with anger. “It’s _you!”_

Did this man know the boy? It appeared so, and the boy’s relief helped him overlook the anger in the man’s face. He knew nothing of himself, and he was desperate for both help and information. He hobbled closer to the man with a word of thanks on his lips.

The man’s skinny arms seized the boy’s collar in a grip of surprising strength. “I knew you wouldn’t run far,” he hissed into the boy’s face. “Wanted to take a look at your handiwork, huh?”

The man’s fingers were digging into the boy’s skin. He struggled to free himself. “Hey, you’re hurting me!”

“Oh, you’ll be in a bigger world of hurt soon, boy,” the man growled. “You think I’m going to let you go after you stopped our well’s flow?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” The boy had no idea what was happening, and he never had the chance to find out. The man’s hands were at once everywhere. They robbed the boy of his shield and weapons, and searched his clothes for everything else. “Please stop!” the boy cried, and he once more attempted to wrench free. “I don’t understand what I did. I was lost in a tomb and I--”

“A likely story!” the man spat.

“No, really! See, I was bitten by a corpse-thing…” The boy extended his bleeding leg with a grimace of pain; moving it hurt him.

The man’s face paled in a span of seconds. Anger warped to fear, and he exclaimed, “A redead bite! You’re cursed!” His hands pushed the boy away with a violent thrust.

The boy staggered backwards. The well’s wall knocked against his knees and he found himself looking up through a stone circle. He was falling down the dry well. He realized this in the few seconds it took him to fall halfway. In a few more seconds, he would be dead. In desperation, the boy flailed out an arm. His hand encountered the well’s ladder. The first few rungs grazed by his hand with painful swiftness before his fingers hooked around one. 

The boy stopped falling for a brief moment until the jerk of his sudden stop broke his grip. Yet that second was all he needed to survive. He fell the last ten feet at a slower speed and suffered only a broken arm when he hit bottom. His scream echoed up the tunnel.

The man’s laugh echoed down. It was still ricocheting when the boy pushed himself onto his feet. He leaned against the wall for support and traced the length of the ladder. His arm sang with pain, and his leg was little better. It would be impossible for him to climb the ladder. Upon realizing this, the boy broke into tears. He slumped down at the base of the wall and hid his face against the knee of his good leg.

A quarter hour or so passed before the boy felt water dampening the seat of his shorts. He raised his head, at first curious. Panic took over when the boy realized the well was filling up with water. Distantly, the dull sounds of the windmill clunked against the nearer whisper of the rising water. The boy struggled to his feet and fell to inspecting the walls of the well. There had to be an escape somewhere. _There had to be._ He couldn’t die here. Not so alone, and without any sense of whom he was.

The ladder was no good, and treading the water was also out of the question with two limbs out of commission. In desperation, the boy moved along the well’s curved wall and slammed his fists against it, hoping to come across a loose area that would provide an escape into… where, he didn’t know, but anywhere would do.

It was when the water was at the boy’s knees when it happened. He fell through the side of the well and found himself lying against the stone floor of a new chamber. For several seconds he stared at the new surroundings. It looked like an old prison. There was a cell across the chamber in front of him, and bloodstained rags were piled in the corners. Weathered, wooden posts with remnants of shackles still attached to them dotted the floor here and there. A shallow path flooded with stagnant water ran the length of the chamber’s hall, which appeared to continue beyond the stone walls to either side.

“Where am I?” the boy wondered, and he looked back towards the wall. He gasped at the sight of his body sticking out of the stone. It was as if he was cemented into the wall. He could feel the well’s water around his legs, yet on this side the ground was dry. The boy moved his legs and found they slid out of the wall with ease. He sat up and fell to wiping the water from his skin and boots as he studied the stone wall. “Is it fake?” he murmured. “Some sort of magic?” It mattered little. What did matter was the fact that, for the moment, the boy was safe. Now he could renew his search for both an exit and for help.

The boy’s leg was no better for its brief submergence in water. The discoloration around the bite had spread below the boy’s boot and around the whole of his lower leg. An inch of pale skin separated it from his knee. Closer to the wound, the green color was darkening towards black, and the bleeding was sluggish.

_A redead bite! You’re cursed!_

The boy trailed a shaking finger over the coloration. The skin was tender enough to spark tears of pain in his eyes. He had to find a way out. He had to find help. Otherwise, something worse than death might find him.

The boy shifted closer to a wall and used it as support to gain his feet. His arm throbbed with pain as he hobbled to the corner of the hallway. It did indeed extend to both sides beyond the corners. Further along each arm, the hallway turned to some unseen area. The boy didn’t care for exploring these areas just yet. Something had caught his eye, and he limped along the wall until he drew close enough to study it.

It was a painting of a demonic face. The horned demon grinned down at the boy with its chin propped upon its open palms. It looked as if it was enjoying a private joke at the boy’s expense. The grin unsettled the boy, and he didn’t like the way the demon’s eyes appeared to follow him when he continued past it.

_Where are you going, child?_ spoke a low voice in the boy’s ear. There was a polite touch to the voice, yet there was also a sinister edge. The boy tried to place its origin as male or female, but he couldn’t decide which best described the voice, nor where it came from.

_Up here, foolish boy,_ the voice spoke up, and this time the boy was able to track its source to the painting of the demon. The toothy grin widened. Or perhaps it was a trick of the torchlight, just like the voice had to be a trick of the echoes in the chamber.

_I am no mere trick, child,_ the voice continued. Had it read the boy’s mind? _Although plenty of those lay in wait for you, oh yes, if you are so foolish as to wander about. No, I am quite real. Realer than you, perhaps._ The voice laughed low.

“Leave me alone,” the boy warned.

_Or what, child?_ The voice was clearly amused. _What can you do to me? To something you can’t see?_

“If I can’t see you, it proves you’re not real,” the boy countered. “So I don’t have to worry about you.”

The voice laughed again. The sound was loud, and it clashed against the boy’s ears in painful echoes. _Fool!_ the voice exclaimed once its laughter died away. _You will die like a dog in here. Here, where Hyrule’s darkest secrets of blood and greed restlessly slumber. The world has forgotten you. You are a shade of your former self--a being of darkness. Continue your search for an exit, if you insist. Wander to your empty mind’s content. Yet if you do find the way out, remember this: No shadow can exist in full light!_

“Leave me alone,” the boy repeated, however this time the demand was not a vague threat. It was a whimper of pain and fear. The voice, hearing this, laughed again, and the boy slunk away to a corner of the wall. There, the edge of the hall blocked out the demon’s endless grin. The boy folded himself up against the stone and drifted off into a pained sleep with the voice’s laughter echoing in his nightmares.


	3. Identification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our young protagonist gains a name and a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, thank you for your continued support of this story. 
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all welcomed from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### Identification

The colors of the courtyard faded in and out of sight in brief flashes. One moment, the flowers bloomed yellow and white. Yet in the blink of an eye, the world jerked to the left, and everything drained to shades of gray. Birdsong burst into life for a few seconds only to be cut off again and again and--

_Who?_

She was standing right there, but she had her back to him. It was as if she didn’t know he existed.

_Who are you?_

As if he wasn’t there.

_How did you get past the_

As if he was nothing more tangible than a shadow.

A high whine filled his ears. It brought tears to his eyes, and the world blurred beyond them. He begged in silence for things to stabilize. He wanted to see her turn around. He wanted to see her eyes focus on him. If she saw him, that would mean he was more than nothing. He would be _something._

_Please turn around,_ he begged, but could she even hear him? She wasn’t turning around. _Look at me, please._

The world was disappearing; melting into the dim torchlight of the well. The boy struggled to hold onto the image of… whom, exactly? The name was right there. He swore he knew it a moment ago. Desperate, the boy crawled across the grass

\-- _stone_ \--

towards her. He couldn’t walk because his leg was as stiff and numb as a board. And his arm hurt too much to be of any use. He limped along on one leg and arm like some beggar

\-- _monster_ \--

and she was _right there._ He could see her blonde hair and pink skirt. Her back was to him, but he could change that. He _would_ change that. “Turn around,” he called in a weak voice. “Please, look at me.”

She turned. Her blue eyes locked onto him and widened. “Who are you?”

The boy’s eyes closed. He slumped forward to the ground, unconscious before his cheek hit the stone.

#

Someone was humming a lullaby, and gentle fingers were stroking his hair. The boy struggled to gain full consciousness. He wanted to see who was showing such tender care to him. When his eyes finally opened, they fell upon the soft face of a girl his age, with bright blonde hair and kind blue eyes. She had a smile on her face as she looked down at him, and he felt reassuring warmth spread throughout his body.

“You’re awake,” the girl noted with obvious relief in her voice. “I was worried. You looked like you were dying, but I guess my grandmother’s potion did the trick.”

The boy opened his mouth to speak; he had to try twice before his mouth worked. “Are you real?” he asked in a rasping voice.

The girl frowned. “Of course I’m real. Can you sit up? You should be able to now.”

She gave his shoulders a nudge, and the boy rose up into a sitting position. He expected his arm to scream with pain, but it felt fine, and he flexed the limb and fingers with bewilderment on his face. His leg, too, was healed. There was only a faint scar where the redead bit him, and the green-black coloration was gone.

When the boy cast the girl a questioning look, she smiled and explained, “My grandmother knows ancient, magical healing arts. She can create a blue potion that will heal any wound so long as the person still has an inch of life to them. I… I stole some to save you.” She bit her lip, but the guilty expression smoothed out into a smile before long. “But I’m glad I did.” The girl held out a hand to the boy, and he shook it. “My name is Ella. What’s your name?”

“I…” The boy paused to think on the question. He was forced to reply, “I don’t know.”

Ella frowned. “That’s weird. Are you okay?”

The boy shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Ella was quiet for a moment save for a thoughtful hum in her throat. Her eyes wandered the well while she considered the boy’s words. She eventually asked, “How did you get here then? I thought I was the only one who knew about the secret way in.”

The boy told his short story, starting with his earliest memory in the tomb and ending with his stumbling through the false wall. Ella walked up to the wall the boy indicated and put her hand through the stone. “Cool,” she remarked when her hand slid in and out without effort. She whirled around and returned to the boy’s side. Her long, pink skirt swirled around her ankles with each step. “But it seems like a hard way to get into this well when all you have to do is use the old service entrance.”

“Service entrance?” the boy repeated. “Where’s that?”

“Near the back of this chamber,” Ella replied with a vague point. “I could show you later. That way, you can come and go as you please just like me. I’ve been sneaking down here for years. It’s my hiding place.”

“What do you hide from?” the boy asked.

Ella’s eyes darkened, and she glanced away for a moment before she said, “It’s nothing. Forget it.” Her face brightened again, and she turned a smile onto the boy. “So about that name…” She closed the distance to the boy and walked a circle around him. The boy craned his head up to follow her movements. “Can you remember _anything?”_ Ella asked after two circles.

The boy knew it would be fruitless, but he tried once again to recall anything like a name or existence from his mind. There was only a black void. “Nothing,” he replied. “It’s all dark.”

Ella clasped her hands together. “Then that’s what we’ll call you! Dark!”

The boy frowned. “That’s a weird name,” he remarked. Ella’s face twisted with hurt, and the boy quickly tacked on, “But it’s better than nothing.”

“Precisely,” Ella agreed, and she once more took a seat by the boy who was now Dark. Her skirt fanned out over her folded legs, and a portion of it fell over one of Dark’s knees. “So I guess you’re an orphan, huh?” Ella asked, and Dark shrugged. “Well, what are you going to do now? You can’t live here forever.”

“Why not?”

Ella fixed a strange look onto Dark. “It’s dirty, for one, and you’re already filthy.”

Dark looked down at himself. The green tunic he wore was smeared with dirt and still damp. He had lost his hat sometime, and when he raised a hand to his blonde hair he found it half-dried in hard clumps of mud. “I guess I am,” he admitted with a downcast expression.

“You don’t have any other clothes,” Ella guessed, and Dark shook his head. “No food. No rupees. No bed. So how do you expect to live down here?”

Dark shrugged and cast his eyes around the strange chamber. “Maybe there’s some treasure in this place. I can find it and sell it.”

Ella replied with a furious shake of her head. Her eyes were wide in fear. “If I was you, I would avoid going into the other rooms,” she advised. “This chamber is safe enough, but the inner chamber, the outside rooms, the basement…” She shuddered. “You can feel something very bad in those places.”

Dark sighed and dropped his head, and Ella was quick to reassure him. “I’ll help as much as I can,” she promised. “My brother left behind his old clothes from when he was our age. And I can sneak you some food, or you can work for the rupees to buy some.”

“Can’t I just live with you?” Dark asked. He had come to like Ella in the short time they had shared so far. She was his first friend, and she came across as kind.

Ella’s eyes once more darkened, and she gave a solemn shake of her head. “No. I’m sorry, but… No.”

A heavy sigh left Dark. “Okay.” He cast his eyes around again. “So where’s this service entrance you mentioned? I’d like to know how to get out of here.”

Ella smiled and stood up in a whirl of pink skirt. She held out a hand to Dark, and he took it with a hesitant smile. Ella showed Dark that the chamber was, in reality, a hallway built into a square shape. Doors led off from the hallway, but it was to a metal ladder at the back that Ella led Dark. The ladder rose up into a vertical tunnel that was cut through the ceiling. Ella and Dark climbed up the ladder--the latter with his head turned politely to the side--until they reached a metal platform. From there, a second ladder ascended through another tunnel to the open air. Faint sunlight filtered down the tunnel to make Ella’s hair shine when she mounted the first few rungs. “Almost there!” she announced. “Come on!”

Dark hurried to catch up. When he placed his hands on a rung, he both felt and saw the warmth of the sun on his heads and shoulders. He was sure it would be brighter and warmer once he reached the surface, just like it was when he escaped the tomb. He was looking forward to feeling it against his skin--

_Yet if you do find the way out, remember this: No shadow can exist in full light!_

Dark stopped before he raised a foot to a rung. The words of the bodiless voice were echoing in his head, and he felt a trickle of worry work into his mind. What would happen if he went up into that sunlight for good? Sure, it might feel nice at first, but if he lingered long enough…

Ella paused in her climb when she noticed Dark wasn’t following her. She looked down to see the boy had backed away from the ladder and was now standing half-hidden in the shadows of the platform. “What’s wrong?” Ella called down. “I thought you wanted to get out of here.”

Dark shook his head and crossed his arms tight over his chest. “I can’t. I’ll disappear.”

“What?”

“The voice… It said I was just a shade. A shadow. And shadows disappear in the sunlight.”

Ella scoffed. “You’re crazy,” she muttered, and Dark retreated further into the shadows with a pained expression. “I’m going up,” the girl continued. “I’m not living down here in this well. You can follow me if you want.” She resumed her climb.

Dark listened to the sound of Ella’s feet against the rungs, but he didn’t dare look up into the tunnel of light. Once the sounds died away, he retreated back to the well proper. 

The voice whispered to Dark when he passed the demon painting. _Why so sad, child? This is where you belong. You should be happy to be down here and alive rather than up there and dead._

“Leave me alone,” Dark muttered, and the voice faded into laughter.

#

Dark never expected to see Ella again. This and other thoughts disturbed his sleep, which was taken on the rough floor of the chamber, in a corner where no demon could look upon him. Dark dreamed fitfully until he decided he could no longer pretend to rest. He gained his feet and took to wandering the hall. He found he was quite thirsty, and with a wary eye he marked the stagnant water sitting in the well. Need eventually overrode hesitation, and he scooped some of the water into his hands and drank. It was metallic in taste with a strange odor, but it sated his thirst. After drinking his fill, he used the water to wash the mud from his skin and hair. It left him damp again, but a little cleaner. He resumed his walk, feeling a little better.

Not long into Dark’s exploration, the voice whispered, _Careful, child. Tricks lie in the shadows, waiting to spring._

“My name is _Dark,”_ Dark snapped at the empty air.

The voice laughed. _And a fitting name it is. Dark, is your head any fuller today? Or does it still echo hollowly? I heard you cry out in your sleep. Do your nightmares have too much room to bounce around in that empty mind of yours? Is that why you scream as if in pain?_

Dark fixed an annoyed glare upon the demon painting. He didn’t like how true its words rang in his head. And he didn’t like the tone that suggested the voice knew more about him than it was letting on. “What would you know about my nightmares? About _me?_ Nothing, that’s what. So just shut up.”

_I can end it for you,_ the voice offered without prompt. _I can make it all go away. You won’t feel pain or confusion anymore._

“Is that right?” Dark countered, and even he could hear the faint hope in his voice.

The voice heard it too, and it laughed. _Would you like that? Then just step forward. Three steps. That’s all it will take, child._

Dark stepped forward with his left foot, followed by the right, and the left again--

The foot fell through the seemingly solid floor, and the rest of Dark’s body would have followed if he didn’t seize hold of the invisible edge of the hole with a flailing arm. He stopped falling, but now he hung with most of his body submerged in the illusion of the solid floor.

_Oops._ The voice snickered. _Tricky._

Dark’s grip was weakening at a swift rate. He didn’t have the strength to hold himself up for long, and who knew how far he would fall if he let go? He attempted to pull himself up onto the solid floor, but without anything to provide a handhold, it was difficult. He was going to die--

“I’ve got you, Dark!”

Ella’s voice rang out like a sweet bell. It filled Dark’s head with its sound. When she appeared before him, out of breath and dirtied from her climb, she looked like a goddess. She took hold of one of Dark’s weakening arms and, with her help, he was able to climb up onto solid ground. Dark collapsed against the stone with a shaky sigh, and he closed his eyes while he worked to calm his trembling body.

Ella paced a short path beside Dark. “What were you doing?” she questioned in a frightened voice. “I told you not to wander around! This place is full of those false floors and walls. I can’t understand why you want to stay here.”

Dark opened his eyes and cast her a relieved smile. “Thanks. You saved my life.”

Ella’s anger deteriorated into a low blush. She stomped a foot in anger the next moment. “Idiot,” she snapped. “Don’t expect me to be around to rescue you again. I’m not your nursemaid, so take better care of yourself.” With this said, Ella picked up one of the two burlap bags she had tossed aside to rescue Dark. “Here. My brother’s old clothes. I can’t believe we still had them lying around.”

She tossed the bag at Dark, and it landed on his stomach. He uttered an exaggerated _oof_ of pain that brought a smile to Ella’s face. When Dark sat up and opened the bag, he discovered something strange about its contents. “Everything is…”

“Black, I know,” Ella finished, and she drew a face in distaste. “My brother fancied himself a lone knight when he was young. He would wear all black and sneak around at night, pretending to smite evil. I suppose that’s why he joined the resistance last month.” Worry came to her face for a moment.

Dark turned a confused look onto Ella. “Resistance?”

Ella sighed. “I keep forgetting--you don’t know anything.” She sat down and fanned out her skirt to cover her legs. “We live in the kingdom of Hyrule, and its king was recently killed in a coup. The person who did it is an evil man named Ganondorf. My brother--he’s only fifteen--left home a month ago to join an underground resistance against Ganondorf. We haven’t heard from him since.” She bit her bottom lip. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is,” Dark said, and Ella smiled at him with a word of thanks. “Let me try these on.”

Dark carried the bag to another leg of the hall where he could change out of Ella’s sight. When he returned to her, dressed in the black tunic, she clapped in approval. “That’s much better than those dirty, green clothes,” she remarked. “And this color won’t show stains as much.”

“You like it?” Dark asked while he turned his head to inspect as much of himself as he could.

Ella shrugged. “It’ll do.” She laughed when Dark stuck out his tongue. “They suit you well enough,” she added before pulling the second burlap bag closer. “Now let’s eat.”

Dark didn’t realize how hungry he was until he saw the cold cucco and bread that Ella had snuck from her house. He fell upon the food with eagerness, and Ella laughed at his enthusiasm. The children passed a half-hour eating and conversing. Ella did most of the talking. She told Dark about Kakariko Village’s history as a war fort before it was converted into a village by the Sheikah some years ago.

“What war was that?” Dark asked during a pause in the tale.

“Well, all I really know is that it ended about ten years ago,” Ella replied. “I’m not sure of the details--we haven’t gotten that far in class. But I know that the Goron race helped the Hylians to re-fortify the fort, and together they warded off the enemy’s attempts to take Death Mountain.”

“Re-fortify?” Dark repeated. “But that would mean the fort was here before the war started.”

Ella nodded. “Yes. It’s a very old structure--or so my teacher says. Supposedly, there was _another_ war a long time ago, when people fought each other over some golden power or something.” Ella dropped her voice to a whisper. “My grandmother told me even more. She says that the fort Kakariko is built upon was once used to house prisoners of war. People were executed here, or they died in the prisons from starvation or beatings. The whole village’s history is steeped in blood and the greed of the people who sought the golden power.”

Dark shuddered when he noticed how similar Ella’s words were to those of the voice when it first spoke to him. “Here, where Hyrule’s darkest secrets of blood and greed restlessly slumber,” he heard himself repeat.

Ella fixed a startled look upon Dark. “Where did that come from?”

Dark merely shrugged. He didn’t want to go into the details of the voice with Ella. It might frighten her, or it might convince her that he was too crazy to be her friend.

Ella shivered nonetheless, and she gained her feet the next moment. “I think I’ll go home now. This place is nice for a hideaway, but I don’t like to stay down here for too long. The shadows play tricks on your mind.” She looked down at the remainder of the food. “You can finish that. I’ll bring you more food tomorrow, okay?” Ella smiled, and Dark returned the expression. “See you, Dark.” She waved before walking away. 

Dark listened to the distant echo of Ella’s feet on the ladder rungs while he picked at his food. It wasn’t long before he gained his feet and started to walk around the hall. He found there were more paintings of the demon hidden in corners where the chamber extended towards rusty doors. These doors were tempting, in a way. They were built of heavy metal with small, barred windows cut into them. When one looked at the doors, it was easy to believe the well was once part of a prison. More than once, Dark’s hand lingered on a knob or handle, but each time he put his curiosity aside when he remembered his fall through the floor.

The memory inspired Dark, however. He took up an aged brick and broke it up into small pieces; these were loaded into the pockets of his new tunic. As Dark walked, he tossed a piece of brick at the ground a few steps before him. If the stone failed to sink into the floor, he picked up the piece and continued his walk. When the stone did disappear, he took a minute to mark out the edges of the invisible hole with more stones until he knew the safe way to pass by.

_Stones may help you avoid broken bones,_ the voice whispered when Dark passed beneath one of the demon paintings, _but words will always hurt you._

“Only if I let them,” Dark countered. 

_With an empty head such as yours, Dark, they’ll have free reign to sneak in and destroy you._ Dark didn’t reply, and the voice snickered. _Tricky, tricky words. A lie masquerades as a promise. Ill intent is hidden beneath sweet nothings. Words can be manipulated so easily, and they can manipulate in turn with just as little effort._

“Oh yeah?”

_Oh yes. Mind that gap, right there at your feet._

Dark heeded the warning. He leapt over the next three feet or so without bothering to test it with his brick pieces. When he landed, the tips of his boots tilted over into nothingness. A frantic scramble and a stagger backwards were just enough to help Dark avoid a nosedive into the unknown. The floor behind him, which he had avoided at the voice’s advice, was quite solid. He dropped down onto his rear against it and let out a shaky gasp.

_Tricky, tricky words._

Dark turned a glare onto the nearest demon painting. It went on grinning at him while its bright eyes and sharp teeth gleamed in the torchlight.


	4. The Half-Remembered Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter a few years have passed, and Dark is faced with some unwelcome changes. He also encounters more than one strange sight in the well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of you who are continuing to read this story. I appreciate it, truly.
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are all welcomed from both AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### The Half-Remembered Stranger

Within the cool chambers of the well, Dark shifted in a restless slumber.

_Hello! I’m ----! Pleased to meet you! What’s your name?_

Why couldn’t he remember?

_\----? Okay! Come on, ----! Let’s go meet the Great Deku Tree!_

Why couldn’t he--

The scenery shifted. Gone was the wood-walled room with its small furniture. Now there was only white stone and three beautiful gemstones. There was a girl standing in front of the stones with her back to him. She appeared to be praying before the stones’ altar. Would she turn around? Just for a moment. If he could see her face, he would remember her name--along with everything else. 

_Please--_

“Dark, wake up!”

Dark opened his eyes with a cry of alarm. His arms flailed, and Ella was forced to back away to avoid a fist to the face. After sitting up, Dark’s eyes darted around the chamber before they fell on his visitor.

Ella laughed before saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you so badly. But you looked like you were having a nightmare. Although…” She looked around the chamber. “After spending the better part of four years in this well, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Dark shook his head and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Had four years already passed? It wasn’t hard to believe that when he looked at Ella. The girl was older now--fourteen--and she was growing into a young lady. Her blonde hair was waist-length, and it shined like the sun--a thing Dark had mostly avoided over the years. 

Only at night did Dark leave the well for the fresh air and exercise he couldn’t get in the well. Sometimes Ella explored the dark village with him, but often she stayed home, stating reasons she couldn’t fully explain. It didn’t take more than a few weeks for Dark to realize that something wasn’t right in Ella’s house. Too often she visited him with bruises on her skin, or with a somber air hanging over her. Dark was too afraid to press for an explanation; he didn’t want to scare Ella away. Instead, he did his best to be cheerful for her when she visited him, which she did almost every day. 

Even so, the well was a lonely place to live, and the voice still spoke to Dark on a daily basis. He had learned to tune most of its words out, however, just as he had learned the various secrets of the well. There was much more to the underground structure than what could first be glimpsed. Despite Ella’s warnings, Dark had systematically explored the whole of the well; marking out hidden ways or traps, finding shortcuts to various chambers, and discovering derelict remnants from the ancient war. The most dangerous area was the basement. Acidic water flooded the floor, and strange-colored flames misled wanderers. It took Dark a while to memorize the proper path through the room without falling victim to the tricks or dangerous water. Afterwards, he avoided the basement. There were remains down there that reminded him too much of the redead that had attacked him.

Other rooms were more interesting than the dangerous basement. A tomb could be found where broken, mummified bodies laid in half-open coffins--victims of grave robbers, no doubt; the skeletons of the less-successful robbers marked a few halls. A torture chamber took up the middle of the well. Blood stained the wood and stone a dark brown, and rusted cells stood with open, inviting doors. Dark knew well enough to avoid those cells. They had trick floors that led straight down into the acidic wash of the basement. 

The number of secrets and tricks in the well were countless, and over the past four years, the demon painting’s voice tried to trick Dark into falling for one. Dark was forced to memorize the well’s true path to avoid a nasty fate. Yet despite these dangers, Dark had grown fond of his home. “I like it here,” he told Ella. “No one knows I’m here, so I’m safe. People like that crazy guy can’t try to hurt me.”

“I don’t think anyone would recognize you anyway,” Ella remarked.

Dark didn’t understand why she would say that, and he frowned. “I might have grown taller, but I still look the same. You’re fourteen too, and you still look a lot like when I first met you.”

Ella’s face twisted into a strange expression, and Dark felt his first trickle of worry in years work down his spine. The girl’s next words only increased the feeling. “Dark, haven’t you looked at yourself lately?”

Dark shook his head. “No. Why should I? I don’t care what I look like. And it’s not like I have a mirror down here.”

Ella bit her lip; an old habit. “I think you should have a look. I’ll bring you a mirror tomorrow. For now, let’s go out and play. The sun’s down.”

Dark and Ella explored the village together for an hour before they parted ways to catch up on sleep. Dark watched his friend until she successfully snuck back into her quiet house. Afterwards, he returned to his makeshift bed in the well and resumed his fitful rest.

#

As promised, Ella brought a hand mirror the next day. What Dark saw in it at first shocked him.

He was no longer the blonde, blue-eyes boy he was four years ago, when he realized he had no memory. His blonde locks had faded to a dusty, premature gray, and the blue in his eyes had faded as well to a similar shade. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, giving him the appearance of a strange demon, and dark shadows lined the underside of his eyes.

Dark lowered the mirror to his side, atop his small bed. The hand clutching it was pale. Why had he never noticed how sickly he had become? “I don’t understand.”

Ella looked torn between crying for him and chastising him. “This is what happens when you avoid the sunlight, Dark,” she explained in a tight, trembling voice. “You always said you were afraid of fading away if you walked in the light. But now you’re more like a ghost than ever.”

Dark’s hand tightened around the hand mirror’s handle. Hearing the disapproval in Ella’s voice sparked anger in him. It combined with the shock of seeing his changed visage, and boiled over. In a fluid movement, Dark stood up from his bed and flung the mirror away. It hit a distant wall and shattered. Shards of glass rang out as they fell to the floor.

Ella uttered a short scream and backed away from Dark. Her hands lingered over her mouth for a few seconds before anger tensed her body. She reclosed the distance to Dark and shouted into his face, “Why did you do that? That was a gift from my mother! _My dead mother!”_

“Go away,” Dark whispered. He had his head down and his hands clenched at his sides. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

His coldness pushed Ella away more than his anger had moments before. Ella spun in place and hurried away with a small cry of frustration and hurt. Dark heard the distant sound of her quick feet on the ladder. Silence reigned when the sound faded, and within it Dark heard the pounding of his blood as it rushed through his veins. He could feel the heavy air of the well pressing against his ears. And he could taste the adrenaline that had flooded his body. In short time, however, all of these senses drained away into exhaustion and confusion. Dark raised one of his pale hands and watched the torchlight glance off of the too-white skin. Before long, his vision was clouded by the tears welling up in his eyes.

_So the shadow finally sees the shape of his form._

Dark blinked the tears away and turned his eyes onto the nearest demon painting, which sat at the end of the hall. He made his slow way towards it while his mind subconsciously guided him around the hidden pitfalls dotting the path. “I’m not a shadow,” Dark said to the painting once he was within speaking range.

_You’re right, child. You’re a bit too pale to be a shadow. Shall I darken you a bit?_

“I have a question for you,” Dark said instead of addressing the remark. He had wanted to ask the voice something for a while, yet he always forgot. In the wake of Ella’s abrupt departure, he remembered his curiosity.

_A question?_ the voice repeated. _Mind, I’m not the one to trust for an honest answer._

“I know,” Dark said with a nod of his head. “Tricky words, right?” The voice didn’t answer, but the demon painting’s smile appeared to widen in the flickering torchlight. “But I’ll ask anyway. There’s no harm in asking.”

_More men and women have fallen after speaking those words. More have sunk into madness when they thought they could handle a truth. Ask your question, little Dark, and we will see how_ you _fare._

“It’s just a harmless question,” Dark insisted. “Why don’t you talk when Ella is around?”

_You speak of the girl?_

“Yes.”

_A funny thing. Why don’t I speak to her? Why don’t I talk in her presence? Perhaps, Dark, if your mind wasn’t so empty, you would know the answer. But perhaps again, it is because your mind is so empty._

Dark shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

_No, you don’t. I know that. I can see into your mind, for I am well-rooted in it. I know the ways through its empty chambers just as well as you know your way through this well. As you grow, so do I. We are one and the same, Dark._

“You mean…” Dark frowned. “You’re not real? I’m just imagining you?”

_No, I am very much real. But you make me even more so. And to have Ella hear me… To let her in on our little secret… Well, you wouldn’t have a friend for very much longer, would you?_

“You’re feeding on me.” Dark backed away from the demon painting. “You’re… You’re some _leech?”_

_We feed each other. We provide each other with just enough change to grow. Do you think you’d have survived in this well for four years without more startling side effects than graying hair and paling skin? We are symbiotic, Dark--feeding and growing on each other’s misery and darkness. It is my companionship that keeps that empty head of yours from collapsing in on itself in despair. And you provide me with just enough entertainment to pass the lonely days of my imprisonment. I give you a reason to keep going._

Dark retreated further from the demon painting. “I don’t need you,” he whispered. “I can manage on my own.”

_Try, if you want,_ the voice challenged. _But if you attempt to ignore me, rest assured your vacant head will begin to deteriorate. You’ve driven away your only friend, and you will be scrambling now like a rat in a maze. You will start to see things. The shadows will draw you in. And then you’ll be one more skeleton in this well._

“Your words are lies,” Dark insisted, and he turned away from the painting. He returned to his bed with his eyes fixed on the ground so as to avoid accidental eye contact with any more demon paintings. The voice spoke to him no more, and he was able to reach his bed without addressing it again. There, Dark fell into another restless sleep punctuated by shadowy dreams.

#

Ella returned to the well two days later. She found Dark sleeping in his bed. Her gentle hand shook him awake, but he was slow to rise. When he finally sat up and blinked the sleep from his eyes, he fixed a wary look on her. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” Ella replied, and she knelt down by his knees. Dark looked down at her with bleary eyes. “I came back. Dark… I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t value a mirror over a friend.”

“It’s okay,” Dark assured her. “I’m happy you’re back.” His mouth stretched open in a yawn.

Ella straightened up and giggled. “I never knew someone who slept as much as you. You’re always sleeping when I come to visit. Do you go right back to sleep when I leave?”

“Most of the time,” Dark admitted with a sheepish smile. “Sometimes I go out at night for some food, or I explore the well, but usually I sleep.” He yawned again. “I’m just so tired all of the time. I feel like I would sleep for years if you didn’t always wake me.”

Ella laughed again at such a suggestion. “Imagine that! Sleeping for years upon years, just like in a fairy tale. Do you think you’d grow up during all that time?”

Dark laughed a little. “Oh yeah. My hair would get as long as yours, and my fingernails would turn into claws. I’d become a regular monster.”

Ella pretended to shudder. “Spooky.” She shared a smile with Dark before seizing his hand. “Let’s go out to the village. I think I found a skulltula nest, and I want you to help me destroy it.”

“Okay,” Dark agreed, and he followed Ella to the moonlight-soaked village. They found the nest, yet it was old and barren; it collapsed into dust when Dark dared to stomp on it. However, there were other quests to complete, and they set upon them in eagerness, happy to once more be friends. They stalked an abnormally large owl along its routes over the rooftops, they chased a few escaped cuccos back into their pen, and they explored an empty building filled with spider webs. 

All too quickly, it seemed, it was time for Ella to return home. Dark was reluctant to let her go, yet he knew it was selfish to ask her to risk punishment just to play a little longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked as Ella split away from him. She nodded, smiling, and Dark smiled back. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Ella returned. She was through her bedroom window and out of sight seconds later. 

Dark never slept well, but Ella didn’t need to know that. He turned away from his friend’s house and returned to the well to seek out his own bed. It was after Dark turned the first corner in the well when he saw it. 

A monster. 

Dark stopped short and looked over the startling sight. It looked like a hand cut off at the wrist, but it was impossibly large, and its skin was a stretched, dried brown color like that of an old corpse. It was walking back and forth along the hall’s length with its body balanced upon its five clawed fingers.

“No…” Dark shook his head and closed his eyes against the horrid image. _It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real…_ He changed this in his mind over and over until he dared to look again. 

Nothing was there. 

Dark’s body relaxed with relief. “I must be tired,” he murmured. He didn’t give any thought to the demon painting’s warning from days ago. He shoved the strange hallucination aside and proceeded to his bed.

However, another strange sight stopped Dark in his tracks. He stared at it for a moment in an attempt to discern if it was a monster, another hallucination, or something else. It appeared to be a person sitting on the floor, but their features couldn’t be determined beneath the black, hooded cloak that covered them from head to foot. Dark closed his eyes and repeated his mantra before opening his eyes again. The person was still there, and more, the dark hood was turned up towards him.

“Who are you?” the person asked in a young, female voice. “What are you doing in this well?”

Dark smacked his dry lips together. “I think I should ask you those questions,” he retorted with more courage than he felt at the moment.

“I’m hiding,” the girl replied. Her voice was soft. “I was being chased, and now I’m waiting for the signal of all clear.”

“Oh.” Dark frowned a little in confusion. “Well, I live down here,” he told the girl. “My name is Dark.”

“Dark,” the girl repeated, and she hummed a thoughtful sound. “You look familiar, Dark. Do I know you?”

Dark shrugged and inched forward until he was only three feet away from the girl. There, he sat down opposite her. Yet even at this close range, he could see only the barest hint of a mouth and nose beneath her hood. “If you do know me, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any memories from before four years ago.”

Dark could feel the girl’s eyes studying him. “I think I know who you are, Dark,” she eventually said. “Or rather, who you’re _supposed_ to be.”

Dark felt a strange attraction to the girl. It drew him in. He wanted to throw back her hood. He had a sudden feeling he would recognize her if he could only see her face. The feeling of recognition was so strong… Unable to stop himself, Dark leaned forward on his braced palms and attempted to look up into the girl’s downturned hood. “Who are you?” he asked her. “And can you tell me who I am? Please?”

“It won’t do any good right now,” the girl replied. “He sleeps, and we dodge our pursuit while we wait for his awakening. And it’s all my fault.” She raised a white-gloved hand to Dark’s cheek. “Even you are my fault in a way. You poor child. How lonely the two of you must feel, ripped loose and years apart.” The gloved fingers stroked Dark’s cheek, and he closed his eyes at the gentle touch. “You should go to sleep. Forget you ever saw me. You would only be in danger if you told anyone.”

“Please tell me who I am first,” Dark murmured. Sleep was stealing into his body already.

A low whistle sounded from deeper within the well. The girl’s hand dropped from Dark’s cheek. “I will find you again,” she whispered. “And I’ll do my best to guide you back to your light. Just take care of yourself until then. Don’t seek the darkness. Keep the light in your heart.”

“But I’ll fade,” Dark whispered.

#

_I wanted to wait for you._

Dark sat up with a gasp. He felt as if he had dropped from a great height. Yet he was whole and alive, although he wasn’t in his bed. Instead, he was lying on the damp stone of the well’s floor. Why had he fallen asleep in such a strange place? He couldn’t remember the reason. He remembered only his night spent with Ella, followed by the strange hallucination, and then…

Dark’s empty mind failed him. There was nothing after the hallucinated monster. With a groan, Dark pushed himself up onto his feet. His body was stiff from his awkward sleep, but a few walks around the chamber eased his muscles and limbered his movements. At the end of his exercise, Dark still couldn’t recall why he had fallen asleep on the floor. He pushed it aside regardless. He was simply exhausted, that was all. He still felt sleepy, but that was nothing a good meal couldn’t cure--

_Its jaws opened wise as it sucked in a breath strong enough to draw in rocks. He felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, and a wall of fire rushed towards--_

Dark screamed and staggered backwards into a wall. His body was tense with fear, and his wide eyes stared ahead in terror. He was seeing something impossible. It was a great beast with a red mouth big enough to swallow him whole. The beast flickered in and out of sight in front of Dark while the walls of the well faded from stone to lava and back again--

Dark screamed again when a second wall of fire blazed towards him. He turned to flee and ran into a corner of a wall. Dark’s vision doubled, and he staggered away from the wall with a bleeding head. Pain bounced around in his rattled mind, and he collapsed to his hands and knees with a groan. He could see his bed. It was tripled before his eyes, but only a few feet away. Dark crawled to it and slipped beneath the covers. Sobs soon wracked his panicked body.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.” Dark whispered this over and over around his tears as the monster’s roars echoed in his mind. He shut his eyes tight and clamped his hands over his ears, all the while wishing the image away. It eventually did fade, sight and sound both, and for a countless span of time Dark could only shake in fear and wonder what was happening to him.


	5. Descent into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark makes a choice, and the result puts him on the start of a shadowed path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updates, if anyone was concerned, but I'm hard at work in the midst of a budget _Zelda Wii U_ cosplay.
> 
> Thank you for your support of this fanfiction. Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always appreciated from both AO3 members and guests. 
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### Descent into Darkness

Dark’s head was tilted back, and his eyes were fixed on the small circle of dim light at the top of the ladder chute. It was late evening; one of the few times he could tolerate the light of the sun. He wasn’t brave enough to venture to the surface when the sun was high in the sky. Yet in the early morning and evening, he could pretend to feel the heat and light he had first experienced after his escape from the Royal Family tomb years ago.

When late evening light faded to night, Dark turned his sights back to the well’s dim interior where he made his home. For nearly a week Ella had not visited him, and he was beginning to think he would never see her again. To his surprise, he found he missed her company. He wanted to hear Ella’s voice once more, and to feel the comfort of another soul sharing the dark well with him--if only for a few hours. The halls rang hollowly with only Dark walking them, and with no one to distract his mind he found his imagination and fears were getting the best of him. He had frequent hallucinations, and they didn’t immediately fade when he chanted his mantra, _It’s not real._

Dark’s dreams were also growing increasingly vivid, and they didn’t always vanish once he opened his eyes. Too often he found himself fleeing from a strange scene that appeared in place of the well around him. These were places Dark had never seen, but somehow he recognized them despite the fact that he couldn’t recall any names or memories. Additionally, the dream of the girl in the garden persisted. The secret of her identity tortured Dark to no end. He would pace the well for hours as he tried to place a name or face to the girl. If he could only see her face, everything would make sense. But the girl never turned around in Dark’s dreams, and he was never able to approach her.

The mocking dreams and alarming hallucinations combined into one large feeling of not knowing that gnawed at Dark. He was exhausted in mind and body, and he rarely found the energy to venture outside the well at night. All he wanted to do was sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to slumber through most of the day. And if he woke, he only wanted to return to sleep. Before long, Dark began to wish each time he closed his eyes would be the last. _This is no life,_ he thought to himself on the edges of sleep. _My head will always be empty if I don’t make some effort to live._

On the eighth straight day without Ella’s company, Dark succumbed to his desire for interaction and sought out the nearest demon painting. It smirked down at him like it always had, silent and mocking. Dark began to panic when he realized he couldn’t hear the disembodied voice. His breath quickened and grew harsh, and he felt sweat break out over his pale skin. Was the voice one more hallucination? Was he truly alone now? Dark’s stomach twisted, and he put a hand out against the wall to steady his shaking body.

_Hello, child._

To Dark, it was like a voice from the Sacred Realm itself. Someone was once more acknowledging his existence. His breathing evened out, and he stood straight without support. When he looked up at the painting, there was a slight smile on his lips. “Hello.”

_It looks like you’ve seen better days, Dark. Or is it better_ nights _since you’re so afraid of the light?_ The voice laughed when Dark bowed his head. _Oh, but what of the girl? Your friend? I haven’t seen her around in such a long time. Perhaps she met with a terrible fate._

Dark’s head snapped up, and he glared at the painting. “Don’t say things like that!” He bowed his face down again; he could feel his cheeks burning. “I don’t know why I bother talking to you,” he muttered. 

_Because who else will comfort a shadow like yourself?_ the voice answered. _Who understands you like me? The girl may pretend to be your friend, but you are only an amusing animal in a dark cage to her--her, who is a denizen of light; who holds herself higher than you._

Dark shook his bowed head and whispered, “That’s not true. You’re lying. She doesn’t think that way about me at all.”

_If you say so,_ the voice said with a low laugh. _But then… Where has she been all this time?_

Dark was forced to admit, “I don’t know.”

_You seem to_ not know _a lot of things, child. What good is a head that’s so empty?_

Dark came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a good idea to engage the voice, no matter how lonely he had felt. He didn’t answer the taunt this time. Instead, he turned away and headed for his bed. He was feeling tired again. He stopped mid-step when his eyes landed on a pale, tubular monster. 

_Ah, that’s right,_ whispered the laughing voice. _An empty head leaves room for fear and darkness to grow._

The tall monster’s sides were undulating, and it was making its slow way to Dark. Its wide girth filled more than half the hall, leaving little to get around; Dark tried regardless. He slunk along one wall and moved as quickly as he could while staying out of the monster’s range. He wasn’t prepared for the monster’s sudden lunge. It stretched its body towards Dark, and its hungry mouth caught his ankle. 

A powerful contraction of the monster’s muscles sucked Dark into its hot, pressing body. He screamed into the darkness of the monster’s stomach until the last of the air was squeezed out of his lungs. Acid coated every inch of his skin, and his mind floundered in encroaching darkness. No. No. He couldn’t die like this; a mere forgotten meal. He struggled as much as possible within the confining space, yet already he--

_“Dark? Dark, wake up! Please!”_

That voice… Dark opened his eyes and gasped for air. He found himself on the floor of the well; not in the stomach of a monster. His breaths were rapid but unhindered, and although his body felt sore it wasn’t burning in acid. He was safe.

Ella’s face swam in Dark’s blurred vision before his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the well. “Are you okay?” Ella asked. Honest concern was in her eyes and words. “I came down into the well and I heard you talking to yourself. Then you screamed, and when I found you, you were writing on the ground. Were you dreaming?”

Anger flooded Dark in the wake of Ella’s concern. He rose to his feet and put some distance between himself and her. “Where have you been?” he nearly snarled. “It’s been over a week!”

Ella winced and bowed her head. “I was sick, Dark. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t allowed outside until I was better.” 

Dark scoffed at the weak excuse and fell to pacing the width of the hall. Ella watched him for a few seconds before asking, “How have you been?” No reply came, and Ella tried once more to make conversation. “I have some news. Good news, actually. My brother wrote to me the other day. He said the resistance against Ganondorf has fallen. And while _that_ isn’t good news, it does mean my brother is coming home. He said he bought a house in Termina, and he’s going to take me there to live with him.”

Dark froze and turned to face Ella. “You’re leaving?” he asked. The words cracked.

Ella smiled, unaware of the anger beneath Dark’s words. “Soon, yes. In a few days.” Her voice spoke her relief better than she could. “I’m so happy. I hate living with my father. He’s angry all of the time--ever since my mother died.”

Dark recalled the bruises he saw on Ella over the course of the last four years. His first instinct was to comfort her, yet his anger rose up another notch and pushed aside the desire. “What about me?” he asked, and Ella’s smile faltered. “What will happen to me? I have no other friends besides you.”

“I…” Ella cast for an answer before she shook her head. Her eyes entreated Dark to understand as she replied, “It’s not that I don’t like you, Dark, but I can’t live with my father anymore. I have to go--for my sake.”

_“But what about mine?”_ Dark shouted.

Ella ducked her head. She was silent for almost a full minute. In the meanwhile, Dark’s fingers dug crescent moons into his palms. “Maybe…” Ella finally spoke up, “you can come to Termina too. I’m sure you can find a well to your liking--”

Ella broke off when Dark shook his head. “I’m not leaving this place,” he said in a hard voice. “And I couldn’t make such a long journey in one night anyway.”

It was Ella’s turn to harden her face and tone. She stomped a foot with a huff of annoyance--an old habit from childhood. “You and your stupid fear of the sun!” she barked, and Dark frowned. “You’re just like a little kid who’s afraid of the dark!”

“The light,” Dark corrected in a mutter.

“Whatever!” Ella snapped. “I don’t know why I even wasted so much time with you!” Ella turned and walked away. “Goodbye, Dark!” she snapped over her shoulder. “I’m leaving in two days. You can have a nice life here in your hole in the ground.” She turned a corner of the hall. The echoes of her footsteps disappeared, leaving Dark seemingly alone.

Yet in the well, Dark was never alone. _So much for friends,_ the voice whispered, and Dark broke into tears. Over the sound of his crying, the voice slipped past Dark’s ears and slinked its way through the empty chambers of his mind, trailing soothing sympathy. _Poor child. Poor, poor child._

“I wish I’d never met her!” Dark managed before he once more deteriorated into tears.

_Poor child. Poor Dark._ The voice dipped into a conspiratorial whisper. _She should be punished for how she treated you. For the lies she told._

Dark’s sobs tapered off when this idea came to mind. It had a twisted attraction to it. “Yes,” he agreed after some deliberation. “She should be punished.”

_Would you like to punish her, Dark?_

Dark’s answer was quicker this time. “Yes.”

_Good, child,_ the voice praised. Dark felt a comforting warmth fall over him much like a loving embrace. He relaxed into the feeling while the voice spoke its instructions to him. _Years ago, a foul beast--a dead hand--was slain in this well. But its restless spirit remains belowground in its grave. It just needs a spark to light it--a spark your anger and desire for revenge can provide. You can awaken it, Dark, and then… Well, I’m sure an intelligent boy like you can figure out the rest._

“Yes,” Dark repeated. A plan was already forming in his mind.

The voice whispered a set of instructions to Dark. He followed them and soon found himself walking to a previously unexplored section of the well. Dark had avoided this area in the past due to the uneasy feeling it gave him. Now, that feeling was overshadowed by his desire to see Ella punished for casting him aside. 

The uneasiness spiked for a short while when Dark entered a dark room with a dirt floor and crumbling walls. This area of the well was clearly the oldest, and there was a dark, heavy presence beneath the moist soil on the floor. Restless, foul energy was thick here. Dark put his fear of it all aside and addressed the empty chamber. _“Risan,”_ he spoke in a harsh hiss. If he had paused to consider the voice speaking the words, he would have realized it was not his own. _“Se weard sceadut madareow. Hedan wirdmin, wirdmin Bongo-Bongo.”_

Weariness stole over Dark. He stumbled back a few steps before steadying himself on weak legs. Around him, the atmosphere was changing; shifting. The foul energy was coiling into several points around the chamber. Dark looked around to see if he had succeeded in raising the dead hand. There was nothing in sight. Had he failed?

The sound of shifted dirt drew Dark’s eyes back, over his shoulder. Emerging from the dirt was a tall, skinny arm that ended in a clawed hand. It reached for Dark; he dodged, but not fast enough. The hand seized Dark around his head and held him tight. He struggled and screamed for help until another sight dried the words on his tongue. 

Something new was emerging from beneath the earthen floor. Dark watched, powerless in the hand’s grip, as a pale monster crawled out of the dirt. It had a bulbous body topped with a small head on a skinny neck. It had no feet, and its two arms ended in single claws. More of the skinny arms rose up through the dirt around it. Judging by the pale markings on their skins, Dark guessed the arms were extensions of the foul creature that was now inching towards him. His fear reached a new height. It paralyzed him when the dead hand’s shadow fell over him. The creature lowered its head, and Dark saw a wide mouth full of yellow teeth set below two black, empty eyes. The yellow teeth sunk into Dark’s shoulder when the dead hand’s head whipped out as fast as a biting snake. Dark cried out in pain, yet already the dead hand had pulled away.

“Empty,” the dead hand spoke in a voice that grated on Dark’s mind. “Not food.”

Dark remembered the reason why he had awakened the dead hand. “Wait!” he called as the creature turned away. “I can get you food!”

The dead hand swung its head back around to Dark. “Price?” it inquired.

“No price,” Dark replied, and he shook his head as well as he could. “This is for my sake.”

The dead hand turned away once more to make its slow path back to the hole it had created upon its emergence. “Bring food,” was all it said before it disappeared into the ground with startling speed. The hand around Dark’s head released him and sunk back into the ground along with its fellows. 

_Very good, Dark,_ the voice praised when Dark returned to the main chamber of the well. _You performed admirably. Now all that is left is to wait for the girl to return. And she_ will _return, I assure you. She will want to say a last goodbye before she abandons you. And you’ll be ready, won’t you?_ Dark answered with a firm nod. _Good, child. Now get some sleep. You are always tired these days. You deserve some rest for all of your hard work._

Dark nodded again and retired to his bed minutes later. He hoped his exhaustion would be enough to keep away any dreams, but in this he was mistaken. As always he dreamt, and this time the foul dead hand was in his dreams. However, instead of awakening the creature, Dark dreamt he was slaying it with a sword again and again and again.

#

As the voice promised, Ella returned to the well two days later. Dark was awake when she arrived, and for a minute they avoided each other’s gaze. Ella broke the silence when she said in a tentative voice, “I’m leaving tonight. If you’re still staying here… I guess this is our last goodbye.”

Dark forced a smile to his lips before he could scream at Ella again. “It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore,” he assured his friend. This was a lie, of course, but Ella didn’t know that words could be tricky things. She was privileged enough to be a denizen of light; to be someone who wasn’t a shade. She didn’t know what deceptions lay in the darker parts of the world. “In fact,” Dark continued after Ella smiled in return, “I have a parting gift for you.”

“For me?” Ella repeated in surprise. Dark nodded and took her hand. In silence he led her through the halls and chambers of the well’s deeper areas. Only when they stopped at an old, metal door did Ella finally hesitate. “Dark, what is this?” she asked. Her question shook at the edges. “This place… It has a bad feeling to it.”

“It’s just your imagination,” Dark assured her. “I had to hide your gift somewhere good, right?” 

Ella answered with a hesitant nod, and Dark smiled again, showing a bit too much tooth. He pressed a hand to an aged switch by the door, and the door slid up into the ceiling with a grating sound. Ella took a step back when she was faced with the dark doorway. 

“After you,” Dark invited.

Ella shook her head. “Dark, I don’t like this. Can we go back? Please?”

Dark reached out and took hold of Ella’s shoulder in a firm hand. He guided her to the doorway, saying, “It’s only the dark, Ella. It doesn’t bite.”

Ella hesitated a moment longer before stepping into the chamber. She took a few steps past the doorway only to stop and look back when she realized Dark wasn’t behind her. “…Dark?”

Dark was still on the other side of the door. As he looked in on Ella, who was half-hidden in shadows, he found himself recalling a conversation he couldn’t remember. “I’m sorry, but… I lied to you.”

Ella’s voice trembled when she asked, “What do you mean?”

“The Lens of Truth is not in this tomb. I lied. I led you here for a different purpose,” Dark replied in a monotone.

“I don’t understand,” Ella said with a shake of her head. “What are you talking about, Dark? What’s the Lens of Truth?” 

Ella took a step towards the doorway, and Dark was at once aware of himself again. He saw Ella approaching the door and punched the switch to close it.

“Dark, please!” Ella had time to cry out before the metal door slammed down, cutting off her words.

Dark leaned against the door and listened to Ella’s muted pleas. The door trembled the slightest bit under his back as she hammered on her side of it. When the pleas soon rose a notch and turned to screams, the door trembled much more. With a final thump, Ella’s voice cut off, and silence reigned. Dark imagined a ravenous monster would prefer the quiet as it enjoyed its first meal in years. 

_How do you feel, Dark?_ a voice asked.

Dark wasn’t surprised to find he could hear the voice without a demon painting nearby. Instead of answering the question aloud, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back until he felt the cold metal of the door against his skull. He relaxed into the presence he could feel all around him and expressed his gratitude with calm silence. He felt stronger now. He felt more capable. He didn’t need the friendship of a thankless girl anymore. He would get by on his own from now on.

The voice coiled around Dark’s mind and settled itself into the quiet chambers where memories lay discarded; their existences hidden. _I will nurture you from now on,_ the voice promised in a whisper. _I will help you to grow. You will never want again. In return, I only ask that you give some of yourself to me. Help me to grow in return._

Dark nodded once. He could do that. He had nothing to lose, after all. It was a tolerable sacrifice for the strength he would gain in exchange.

_Good, child,_ the voice praised with a low laugh.


	6. Hunting and Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years have passed, and Dark is comfortable in his strange life. Yet things take an unexpected turn one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this story. It's very much appreciated.
> 
> Comments, questions, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcomed from AO3 users and guests. Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### Hunting and Gathering

Overhead, the sky was filled with stars, but the moon was new; a black circle against the blacker night. In this darkest night of the month, two shadows moved independently from the ones cast by the structures within Kakariko Village. Much like the moon above, they could be seen only if one looked hard enough in the right place. The traveler sleeping under Kakariko Village’s lone tree didn’t bother with this task, and so he never saw the danger approaching him.

At the edge of a general shop’s corner, Dark pressed his thin body flush against the brick. Despite the years spent living in a dark well, he had matured into a healthy seventeen-year-old. His body was lithe, his muscles were well-developed, and his senses were sharp. His eyes peered through the dark with ease, and his ears heard even the sound of an owl’s wings when it glided through the air. The particulars of his growth over the past three years were a result of a regime not usual for the typical Hylian; a diet on darkness. 

There were side-effects, naturally. Dark’s eyes had shifted to a permanent demon-like red, and his hair was still gray from the lack of sun, as it was in his youth. His skin reflected his nocturnal habits as well in its pale color. Despite these changes, Dark held no qualms for the choices he had made. He was happy--even if his sleep was occasionally jarred by strange dreams--and so he was willing to help the force that made his current life possible. 

That force… Dark still wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was. He had thought years ago that it was the personification of the demon paintings scattered around the well. Yet now he felt those paintings--and all of the monsters that now inhabited the well--were in truth mere extensions of a greater power.

And that power desired blood.

While Dark’s sharp eyes scanned the area for witnesses, the second independent shadow that accompanied him crawled up his leg and circled halfway around his hanging arm. It came to a stop in a wary perch atop the young man’s left shoulder. Dark no longer winced when the small nails dug into his skin. In fact, Dark barely acknowledged the floormaster, and in short time the monster dropped down to the grass. The brown pigments of its leathery skin flashed with a green color, and the hand grew until the top of its wrist rose to waist height. With its growth complete, the monster leaned in against Dark’s leg with obvious yearning. 

The young man reached down to stroke the floormaster until it was satisfied. His eyes remained forward, scanning, until he clicked his tongue twice. The floormaster stiffened with anticipation. Dark felt the monster tense against his leg, and he looked down at it with an amused smile. “Well go on then,” he whispered.

The floormaster skittered out of the shadows and zipped across the open grass of the village’s center, heading for the sleeping traveler. Dark smirked when he heard the dry snap of a breaking neck. No warning scream, no struggling… Just how it was supposed to go.

_Dark, please!_

Dark winced and pressed a hand to his forehead. The memory faded in short while, and he shook his head before relaxing against the building once more. The floormaster was dragging its kill towards him, using two of its fingers to hold the limp body as it skipped along on the other three.

“Very good,” Dark praised when the monster passed him. He trailed it back to the service entrance of the well, which was hidden near the base of the village’s windmill. The floormaster disappeared down the shaft ahead of Dark, and by the time the young man reached the main chamber of the well the creature was out of sight. It would be delivering this latest victim to the basement of the well where the body would join the other skeletons in the acid wash. Dark didn’t know how the presence of the well fed on the corpses. He only knew its appetite was growing. A single feeding once a month was no longer enough. This latest was Dark’s third trip to the surface in the past three weeks for his caregiver’s sustenance. If this rate continued--or worse, increased--Dark would need to expand his search for victims beyond the safe familiarity of Kakariko Village’s stone walls.

 _Worry not, Dark,_ spoke a voice in Dark’s ear, and he tilted his head towards it. _My preparations are nearly complete. It will only be a month or two more before I will be free of this confining place._

“What will happen to me when you leave?” Dark asked.

 _Good question,_ the voice replied before falling silent.

Dark ignored the foreboding tone. For the moment he was content. If such a time arrived when the well’s presence no longer needed him, he would set out on his own to make his own path. He was sure he could reinstate himself into the normal routine of a Hylian life.

_That’s our famous Lon Lon Milk--_

Dark staggered back a step with a gasp and closed his eyes tight. For a moment he was looking into a room filled with cuccos. No matter how many times some strange image flashed before his eyes, it always startled him. Dark cleared away the latest image with a shake of his head and continued through the well to his bed. He passed a like-like on his way; it paid him no mind. The monsters in the well were no longer hallucinations, but Dark no longer had to fear them.

After dropping down onto his bed--a thin mattress on an old frame, both salvaged--Dark began to pull off his boots. Between the first and second, two more monsters ran into view. One of them was the floormaster that had earlier accompanied the young man. It was once more shrunk down, and it ran up Dark’s right leg, over his folded knee, and up his arm to perch on his bowed back. Hot on the floormaster’s tail was a skullwalltula. The two monsters chased each other over and under Dark’s body for a few seconds until the floormaster found shelter beneath the young man’s arm. The skullwalltula attempted to reach it, and Dark voiced a sharp tsst to deter it. The skullwalltula froze, abruptly turned around, and skittered away. The floormaster inched out of its hiding place, perched atop Dark’s knee, and waved two of its fingers at the retreating skullwalltula in an intimidating manner. 

Dark shook his head at the display. “What are you doing, bothering the young ones?” he asked, and the floormaster shrunk into itself in shame. “Do you want to be eaten by a skulltula? That’s what will happen if you keep it up, and if you can’t manage the babies how are you supposed to fight one of those guys?” The floormaster rose up onto stiff fingers in obvious outrage, inciting laughter from Dark. “Relax, I was only teasing. We all know you’re the biggest baddie around.” He nudged the floormaster off of his knee with a gentle hand and lay down on his bed. “I’m going to sleep.”

_I never knew someone who slept as much as you._

“Go away,” Dark muttered. His blankets shifted not long after he lowered his head. He opened his eyes and looked up to see the floormaster nestled atop his pillow with its fingers tucked. Dark dropped his head back down to the pillow and closed his eyes again.

#

_…wake…_

In his bed, Dark’s body tensed, and sweat broke out over his skin. The floormaster asleep by him stiffened with awareness and rose up onto straight fingers. Dark’s head whipped from side to side inches away from the trembling claws.

_…hero…_

Dark’s hands clenched in his blankets, and his back arched up before dropping to the mattress once more.

_…Master Sword…_

The floormaster continued to tremble. Its master was uttering strange, fearful whimpers of pain. His chest heaved, and his breaths were harsh. Some nightmare had gripped him tight and wasn’t letting go.

_…Link!_

Dark screamed, and his body arched up again before dropping to the mattress with the sudden speed of a stone. The floormaster took off, trailing a rapid staccato of nails against stone. In his bed, Dark moaned and rolled from side to side. His feet kicked out as a second scream escaped his throat. There was something… something he was seeing… Something impossible--

No, not some _thing._

Some _one._

_Dark, wake up._

But it couldn’t be true. It was just one more impossible nightmare. Yes, that was

_Wake up, Dark!_

the only explanation. Because to consider any other possibility was…

Agony cut into Dark’s scrambled thoughts, and his nightmare slipped away into the empty chambers of his mind. He rolled out of his bed with a fresh cry of pain and hit the stone floor. The impact was enough to jolt him out of his sleep. He opened his eyes with a gasp and cast his ruby gaze around the well in search of his attacker. No one was in sight, and the pain was already gone.

_You wouldn’t wake._

It took Dark a moment to focus his mind and recognize the voice in his ear. “That was you?” he asked the empty air.

 _You wouldn’t wake,_ the voice repeated. _You were suffering. I had to free you from your nightmare._ The voice paused when Dark straightened up and took a seat on the edge of his bed. _What were you dreaming of this time?_

“I don’t--” _remember_ Dark would have finished, but something was lingering on the edges of his mind. “A blue light,” Dark replied. “I was standing on a platform or something, and a blue light was all around me. It… It took me away.” He paused before finishing, “I’ve seen that light before.”

 _When?_ the voice asked.

Dark was too distracted by his thoughts to note the wary edge in his caregiver’s voice. “I can’t remember,” he admitted.

 _You should rest,_ the voice advised. _You were asleep for only a few hours. And you’re always so tired these days._

“I… No.” Dark gained his feet. He could feel his body pulsing with new energy. He hadn’t felt like this for as long as he could remember. For once in the seven years of life he could recall, he felt _awake._ “I think I’ll go for a walk,” Dark said. “Outside.”

_The sun will be rising soon._

“That’s okay,” Dark said. “I’ll be back before then. I just want to stretch my legs.” The voice offered no more advice, leaving Dark to return to the surface for the second time that night. His climb was brisk, and when he emerged into the sleeping village he felt more awake than ever before. _I don’t know what’s come over me,_ Dark thought, _but I think I like it._ Grinning, he took off across the dark grass in search of something to work his newfound energy upon.

#

_I’m hungry._

Dark looked up from the string he was trailing across the floor, and the floormaster caught it with deft skill when its master’s attention was diverted. “You’re hungry? Again?” Dark shook his head. “But it’s been barely a week since--”

_My plans are nearing their end. I need more sustenance if I’m to finish them. Get me food, Dark._

Dark turned his eyes down to the floormaster. It now had its fingers entangled in the string. He took his time helping the monster to free itself before holding out an open palm. The floormaster leapt into the young man’s hand and climbed up to his shoulder. “Come on,” Dark murmured to the perched monster, and he trudged his way out of the well.

Outside, the moon was showing the first bone-white hint of the approaching first quarter. Dark avoided the faint glow, keeping to the shadows as usual. He soon realized there were no stray travelers in the village tonight, or children sneaking out of their beds, or restless men wandering the streets.

In short, no food.

“Wonderful,” Dark muttered. “We need to look elsewhere.” The floormaster on his shoulder danced; like its master, it had never left Kakariko Village. Dark didn’t share the monster’s enthusiasm. He wasn’t looking forward to stepping out into the unknown world. He had learned his way around the well and Kakariko Village, but the rest of Hyrule could be full of tricks waiting to be discovered by a foolish adventurer.

“But I don’t have a choice,” Dark said aloud. He turned his feet onto the path leading to Hyrule Field.

The field’s grass glowed in the faint moonlight, but Dark was unimpressed by the sight. Instead of feeling a sense of unfamiliarity upon reaching the field, he realized he knew every inch of it. He knew where each path led, and how they wound their ways around trees, rocks, and fences. He could name each region that branched off of the field, and the peoples that lived in them. Yet where that knowledge came from… Dark had no idea. It went beyond simply knowing Hyrule’s geography as taught in a book. Dark could trace each path in his head as if he had walked them moments ago. 

_I think this was a bad idea,_ Dark thought as he walked across a stone bridge that spanned a narrow point of Zora River. The floormaster didn’t show such apprehension. It quivered upon Dark’s shoulder and often switched sides in its excitement. When it and its master spied a man running across the field towards them, the floormaster nearly fell off of its perch with joy.

“Okay, okay, relax,” Dark said, and he managed a small laugh despite his nerves. “Wait until he’s closer.”

The man was approaching at a startling speed. Before long, the expression of terror on his face grew clear. Beneath the red postman’s hat on his head, his eyes were wide, and his skin was pale. He was running away from something, and when he passed by Dark he shouted a brief warning. “Run! Hide! Ganondorf’s beasts are on the prowl!” The man continued on into the dark horizon. 

The floormaster sagged on Dark’s shoulder. The young man ignored his partner’s disappointment; his priorities had shifted. Dark knew of Ganondorf. A once-friend

_My name is Ella_

had told him about the Evil King that now ruled over most of Hyrule. Dark had no interest in getting caught by such a wicked man’s followers. He decided to follow the fleeing man’s advice, and he spun around to head back to Kakariko Village.

The sound of hoof beats echoed across the field. Ten yards from the start of Kakariko Village’s pass, Dark looked back to find a mounted skeletal monster bearing down on him; a stalfos. The monster pulled out a bow when Dark locked eyes with it. A sleek arrow found the floormaster on the young man’s shoulder, knocking the monster to the ground.

 _“No!”_ Dark turned back to try and save the floormaster. Yet the arrow impaling the monster had already done its job. The floormaster was little more than a dry husk by the time Dark knelt beside it. A shadow fell over Dark the next moment. He looked up and found a club filling his line of sight.

Dark regained consciousness a few minutes later and found himself gagged, trussed, and laying over a galloping horse’s hindquarters. Each impact of the horse’s hooves sent an uncomfortable jolt through his chest, which fed the sharper pain in his head. In front of him sat the stalfos. Dark could look through its ribcage and over the horse’s bobbing head to see he was begin taken to the black castle that sat over the remains of Castle Town. _But why me?_ Dark wondered. _I’m anonymous. I’ve never strayed outside of Kakariko before tonight. So why me?_

There were no answers for Dark that night. He was taken to the castle and dragged down to its lower dungeons with a stalfos on each arm. Only when Dark reached the cells were his bindings and gag removed. He was pushed into a small cell where he caught his breath before casting an eye around the dungeons. Men of similar age and build to him were in the other cells. They all looked as confused and frightened as Dark felt. Without a word to any of them, Dark retreated to a corner of his cell where he sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest. His thoughts switched between his lost floormaster and the comforting presence in the well that he could no longer reach. Sleep did not claim him that night.

#

It was morning, and Dark was in a short line of a dozen men; the same men who were imprisoned with him the previous night. They stood shoulder to shoulder opposite a line of armed stalfos within a wide, tall hall. Their orders were simple: stand straight and still, don’t talk, and wait for further instructions. Dark was doing his best to comply, but his eyes continuously searched for an escape while his body fidgeted in fear.

The only escape lay in two doors: the one the men were ushered through and another opposite it on the other side of the room; behind the line of imposing stalfos. Neither option could be reached without recapture, so Dark continued to fidget and hold his tongue even though a hundred questions burned on it. After a long while, the door behind the stalfos opened.

A young person stepped around the line of stalfos; a teenager, Dark believed. Certainly someone no older than fifteen. The person was an effeminate boy dressed in purple wizard garb, complete with a cloak and floppy, conical hat. He studied the line of Hylians with red eyes half-obscured by his long, lilac-colored hair. He was built lighter than the prisoners, but there was a heavy air of authority around him. He didn’t simply stand in place; he _commanded_ the spot. Dark had lived long enough amongst strange powers to recognize this person was skilled in dark magics.

The young man scanned the line of men once more, looking unimpressed. Dark flinched when he noticed the ruby gaze lingered on him. The young man smirked a little at Dark’s reaction before he turned his eyes to the line of men as a whole. “My name is Vaati,” he greeted in a crisp, carrying tone, “and I welcome you to Ganondorf’s castle. You have all been recruited--voluntarily or otherwise--to oppose a new threat to Lord Ganondorf’s kingdom. And as citizens of this kingdom, you have a duty to protect your rightful ruler.”

One of the men in line stepped forward in challenge. The others looked on in wary anticipation as he shouted, “Our princess is the rightful ruler of Hyrule! Where are you bastards keeping her? Have you killed her as the rumors say? Answer me, you usurping runt!”

Vaati replied with a bored look. The prisoner staggered further out of line a second later. His hands flew to his throat as he dropped hard to his knees. Dark’s sharp ears picked up “Can’t… Help me…” before the prisoner fell forward onto his stomach. He gasped like a fish on land while his face darkened to purple. It wasn’t long before he stopped moving altogether.

Vaati looked up from the corpse and cast a bright smile at the remaining men. “Any rumors you have heard about the princess are false. She is not here, she is not our prisoner, and as far as we know she is not dead. She has abandoned you all, her loyal subjects.” He paused to allow the words to sink into the prisoners’ heads. “Yet Lord Ganondorf has not abandoned you. He welcomes you all into his arms. However…” 

Vaati paused again. When he picked up once more, his voice was a mere whisper. Yet it carried to each ear with terrifying clarity. “Death awaits any who resist him. And if you’re considering the noble possibility that death would be better than giving your service to Lord Ganondorf, then you gravely underestimate my capabilities when it comes to making sure you suffer for that decision before you’re allowed to embrace it.”

Dark wasn’t sure about the other men in line, but he didn’t underestimate this Vaati person at all. Within the young man lay a terrifying power similar to the presence in the well. Vaati was not someone to cross.

Vaati once more cast a look up and down the line; and once more his gaze lingered on Dark before centering. “You will be separated and tested for whatever skills you might possess. Some of you may join the battle while others may toil anonymously in the background, making sure the gears of our operation run smoothly. Yet wherever the trials lead you, rest assured you are all equally appreciated.”

Dark couldn’t help but snort. Vaati was laying it on pretty thick. In the corner of his eye he saw the other men glance at him as if they expected him to join the corpse on the floor. But while Vaati’s gaze did indeed whip towards Dark, the teenager never acknowledged the slip in discipline.

“I wish you all luck in your trials,” Vaati finished. He spun around on a sandaled heel and marched out the same door he had arrived, leaving the prisoners to be escorted away by the line of stalfos.


	7. Examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark is faced with a short trial, after which he is offered the chance he is looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're continuing to enjoy this story. Thank you for your continued support.
> 
> Questions, comments, kudos, and constructive criticism are always welcomed from both AO3 users and guests.
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you.

# The Cast Shadow

### Examinations

A stalfos escorted Dark to a room where--according to the mage Vaati--he would be tested for any skills he possessed. Dark fretted over what might be expected of him. He had no skills he was aware of. He could track people with his above-average senses, but he had never wielded a weapon before, or taken up any crafts. So he could only offer a helpless shrug when his stalfos escort gestured to a rack of weapons.

“If you do not fight, you die,” the stalfos explained in passable Hylian. The monster had a shield and flamberge in hand. He was clearly meant to be Dark’s opponent.

There was no other immediate option. Dark sighed and walked to the array of weapons. Clubs, bows, swords, axes… The selection was varied, and Dark was momentarily at a loss. He closed his eyes and stretched out a blind hand, putting all to fate. His fingers came to a rest against a sword hilt. Dark opened his eyes and stared at it. A peculiar sense of familiarity washed over him. When he took the sword off of the rack, the sensation increased. The sword’s weight felt natural in Dark’s hand, and it rested easy. He knew as if by instinct that he would have no problem wielding this weapon. 

The rack disappeared, and the stalfos leapt at Dark with its flamberge held high. The attack was unexpected, and the warped blade filled Dark’s eyes. He didn’t know he had dodged the attack until he heard his opponent’s sword bite into the stone floor. The stalfos’s back was now turned to Dark. He slashed at it in a movement that felt well-practiced despite it being his first time with a sword. 

The blade sliced into the stalfos’s bony spine and took out a chunk of vertebrae. The monster roared with pain and anger, and spun around. It circled Dark with its shield raised. Dark moved with it, making sure to keep the stalfos in his line of sight at all times. When the stalfos leapt forward again, Dark was ready with a quick jab that sliced the depleted spine in half. The stalfos fell to the ground in two pieces, cried out once, and dissipated into flames.

Dark was at first unsettled by the ease at which he had dispatched the monster. He stared at the sword in his hands, feeling the sense of familiarity deepen, until the click of a lock sounded across the room. Dark looked up to see a door open on its own. “I guess that’s my cue,” he murmured before walking to the door. It closed on its own accord once Dark was clear of it, and he found himself in a room much like the one he had left. This time, two stalfos waited for him.

“Well, all right,” Dark said, and he felt a smile come to his lips. When he raised the sword, he felt confidence flood him.

The stalfos pair fell to circling Dark. They worked together to ensure one of them was always at his back. Dark couldn’t watch both of them at once, but his sharp ears were able to track the movements of the stalfos he couldn’t see. When both stalfos leapt at him at once, Dark was already moving out of the way. He back-flipped out of range, leaving the stalfos to meet no one but each other in the space where he stood a second ago. Dark slashed his sword at the bewildered monsters. The blade cut clean through their bony necks. Beheaded, they scattered into flames.

Confidence spoiled over to cockiness, and Dark slashed at the air. “Come on!” he goaded the empty room. “Give me a challenge!” The door clicked open, and Dark stepped through it, back to the first room he had come to in the trial. This time, six stalfos waited for him. They formed a swift circle around Dark and moved in towards him.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” Dark muttered. He doubted he could take out six stalfos with the same ease he had shown before, and already the circle had closed, leaving no escape. Dark’s mind floundered for a plan, but his body already had one. His arm moved out on its own to hold the sword out at his side. The light in the room faded as its energy gathered in the blade. In response, a blue light enveloped the steel.

The stalfos circled tightened; they showed no fear of the glowing sword. When they stepped within its range, Dark moved without thought. He spun in place, and the sword’s blue energy whipped out, following the curve of his spin. The energy sliced through the stalfos before petering out some feet behind them. The monsters dropped to the floor in various pieces, leaving Dark alone in the room.

“How…” Dark had never experienced anything like that in his life. He stared at the sword in fascination. Was it the blade itself? But no, the sword was now deeply cracked along its length. Dark pressed a finger to the crack, and the blade broke away from the hilt in two pieces. Dark dropped the hilt in dismay. Now what was he to do? If there were more enemies waiting for him…

The door clicked open. Dark walked through it in an air of trepidation. Whether it was one stalfos or twenty, he was doomed either way. Yet no enemies waited for Dark. Instead, he found himself back in the hall where he and the other men had received their peculiar welcome. It was a strange bit of sorcery, and Dark accepted it as the convenience that it was. He cast his eyes around the room and found a new sword waiting for him. It was leaning against a wooden practice dummy. Similar dummies dotted the hall, and Dark had a strong desire to pick up the sword and slice at them. He followed through on the impulse and found he had an overwhelming need to vent his frustration and fear over his kidnapping. 

Swordplay was the perfect outlet. Each time Dark sliced through a dummy the sword became less of a stranger, and his doubts ebbed. He tracked the dummies across the room, for when one fell it vanished to reappear somewhere else. After a few minutes the dummies grew in numbers and gained swords of their own--more sorcery. Dark cut them down with just as much ease. He enjoyed the smooth thrusts and slashes of the sword, and its weight in his hand. Everything about it felt natural, and Dark’s uneasiness now felt like something close to pride and happiness. _I was born for this,_ Dark thought while he circled, slashed, and dodged. _This is something I’m sure of --something I know I can do. No one taught me this._

_Then where did you learn it from?_

Dark ceased his practice when this question intruded upon his thoughts, and the dummies around him advanced on their wooden poles. Their swords were inches away when they disappeared. Dark shook his troubled head to regain focus. A quick glance around the room confirmed there were no more dummies, or any other enemies. Instead there was a familiar, purple-clad figure by the door.

“Hello,” Vaati greeted when Dark’s eyes fell on him. There was a smile on his face, and he strolled away from the door on easy feet. “Having fun?”

Dark took up a wary stance and tone. “I was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Vaati snapped his fingers, and the dummies reappeared. “Care to continue?”

Dark nodded only because he could sense it was what Vaati wanted from him. The young mage’s smile widened, and he stepped out of Dark’s way. He remained out of sight while Dark picked up his practice. Dark became so consumed by his exercise that he soon forgot about Vaati until the mage reappeared from behind a dummy.

“You’re quite good,” Vaati remarked after stepping into view. “A natural.”

“Thanks,” Dark replied, still wary. “I… I like this. The swordplay, I mean. It feels like I was made for it. I feel like I’m someone important--someone who can make a difference. When I hold the sword, I feel like I can use it to change things.” He paused, surprised to find this small speech had left him.

“You feel special,” Vaati simplified.

Dark nodded. His unease was fading. Vaati understood what he was trying to say. “Exactly. I don’t feel anonymous.”

“You feel like you’re someone,” Vaati said, reiterating Dark’s earlier words.

“Yeah! I feel like… like a…”

“You feel like a _hero.”_

_…hero…_

Dark took a step back from Vaati. 

If the mage noticed the shift in Dark, he didn’t remark upon it. Instead, Vaati headed for the door through which he’d entered. “I think I can use you,” he called over his shoulder. “Rest for now. I’ll be in touch.”

“Rest where?” Dark asked. The question was barely spoken when the hall shifted around him. Dark tensed, expecting another hallucination, but it was a bedroom that steadied around him. Sorcery had sent him to his sleeping quarters. The room was simple, with a bed against a wall and little else. Sunlight filtered through a narrow slit in the window’s curtains until Dark tugged them fully closed. 

Dark’s body ached for sleep, and he slipped off into slumber not long after laying down. His dreams played out against a bright, blue light to the sound of an angry, tinny voice. Dark was pulled out of his dreams when the door to his bedroom opened with a bang. He shot up into a sitting position and reached for the sword he had put aside. 

A stalfos was in the doorway with a bundle in its bony hands. It cast a look over Dark’s weapon before focusing on the young man’s face. “Lord Vaati has summoned you. You are to make yourself presentable before meeting with him. There is a washroom down the hall for your use, and here are fresh clothes.” The stalfos tossed the bundle to Dark; it landed on the foot of his narrow bed. “You have half an hour.”

Dark put aside his sword in favor of the bundle. “Where do I meet him?” he asked the stalfos.

“Lord Vaati is confident in your ability to find him on your own,” the stalfos replied. He left the room without any further instructions, closing the door behind him.

The clothes within the bundle turned out to be a black tunic and white leggings. After donning them, Dark regarded himself in the washroom’s spotted mirror. Familiarity once more washed over him. Where had he seen--

_Fairy boy! Your clothes are green like the forest and you have a_

“Navi?” Dark said out of the blue. A sharp pain entered his head, and he grimaced.

_Hello! I’m Navi! Pleased to meet you!_

“No. _No.”_

More senseless hallucinations. Dark shoved them aside before they could distress him. There was nothing familiar about the clothes he was wearing. He knew no Navi. It was all a lie; just a confused collection of emotion and thought banging around his empty head. “They’re not memories,” Dark said aloud. Yet as he said this, he wished the opposite was true. He wished he could remember something-- _anything_ \--that would fill the empty hole he felt in his chest when he thought back on his blank past.

After taking a few minutes to collect himself, Dark set off in search of Vaati. He had no idea how he was to find someone without knowing where to look, but he decided to try his best. He ambled along the halls and staircases of the foreign castle, steadily moving up, until he found his way to the top of a tower. The room’s window was open, providing a view of the night sky and the glowing lava pool beneath the floating castle. Dark stuck his head fully out of the window and looked up. Vaati was sitting on the lip of the tower’s roof.

“There you are,” the young mage said when he caught Dark’s look. “I was beginning to worry. Get up here, and let’s talk.”

Climbing onto rooftops was no hobby of Dark’s, but he made do by using the window as a foothold to boost himself up. His hands clutched at the shingles with tight grips, and he silently prayed for them to not loosen. After a frightening scramble, Dark took a secure seat on the roof, well away from the edge.

Vaati watched the climb with clear amusement. Once Dark was settled, the mage asked, “Are you scared of heights?”

Dark had to work to tear his eyes from what he could see of the lava pool far, far below. “I’ve spent most of my life--what I can remember of it--underground, so I’m not used to this.” He marked Vaati’s easy posture. “How can you sit there on the edge as if it’s nothing?”

Vaati smiled. “I’m a Wind Mage,” he explained. Dark’s face contorted into confusion, and the young mage elaborated, “I can control the winds, so even if I was to fall I can simply float down to safety. But enough about me.” He fixed a curious look onto Dark. “What did you mean by ‘what I can remember’?”

“Let’s just say I’ve led a strange life,” Dark replied. Something in Vaati’s expression demanded more detail, so Dark reluctantly summarized his life for the mage. “I don’t know who I am,” he finished. “and I’m still searching for an answer.” The empty feeling was returning to his chest. He did his best to ignore it.

Vaati’s next words distracted Dark from the feeling well enough. “I think I know who you are.”

Urgency took over, and Dark leaned forward despite his fear of the edge. “Who?” he pressed.

Vaati laughed gaily, showing a pair of sharp incisors. “You won’t get answers form me that easily,” he taunted. Dark’s urgent face grew stormy. “You have to work for me first.”

“And why should I work for a brat like you?” Dark snapped.

Vaati’s cheery smile took on a dangerous hint. “Because this _brat_ can make your existence a living hell.”

Dark noticed a shadow fall over Vaati’s face at these words, and the mage’s red eyes sharpened with a hungry look. The effect was unsettling, and with renewed wariness Dark asked, “What are you?”

Vaati smirked at the choice of words. “I’m a Wind Mage,” he reiterated before adding, offhandedly, “…who’s been known to dabble with demons. I want to take down Ganondorf. I want Hyrule.”

The sudden shift in topic threw Dark for a moment, and he could only manage, “Why?”

Vaati shrugged a narrow shoulder. “For something to do. To prove that I can, and perhaps to gain something of my own--like the light power this land is said to possess. If I had that, I would be as a god.”

When Vaati spoke in such a way it was easy for Dark to see insanity behind the young mage’s eyes. Such a thing could prove to be a problem, but Dark needed to know the truth behind his past. He had to take the bad with the possible good. “And if I help you, you’ll help me in return?” he asked Vaati. He had to be sure. “You’ll tell me who I am?”

“By helping me, you’ll find yourself in a position to see who you truly are,” Vaati replied, and he flashed an encouraging smile as he extended a hand up to Dark. “Do we have a deal?”

Dark didn’t take long to decide. At this point, the pros outweighed the cons in his eyes. “Okay,” he agreed, and he shook Vaati’s pale, cold hand.


	8. Tact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark falls into a rhythm within Ganondorf's castle--a rhythm interrupted by dreams and Vaati.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support of this fanfiction!
> 
> Comments, questions, constructive criticism, and kudos are all welcome, thank you! (I reply to everything with enthusiasm.)
> 
> Please enjoy, thank you!

# -The Cast Shadow-

### Tact

 

Despite the interest Vaati had shown in Dark, the Wind Mage didn’t call on him for nearly a month. In the meanwhile, Dark spent his days in a more-or-less steady schedule of sleeping during the daylight hours and honing his skills at night while most of the dark castle rested. Three meals a day took a while to get used to again after spending several years without real sustenance; feeding on energy supplied by a shadowy being. At these times in the day, Dark often found himself thinking on his well, and wondering what the bodiless voice was thinking, having not seen its companion return. Had the voice fallen into hibernation? Had it expired altogether? Or perhaps it was biding its time; waiting for another fool to enter the well and become its servant. Dark had no plans to become that fool again. He had enjoyed the benefits of being in such a powerful being’s favor, but he wasn’t stupid. The well’s presence would have consumed him sooner or later. 

In the more stable environment of Ganondorf’s castle, Dark was able to eat when he was hungry and sleep when he was tired--all without fear of lurking shadows. In the absence of the well, he lost some of his sharper senses and agility, but he gained the latter back after several weeks of stealth training, swordplay, and exercise. Dark excelled in nearly every challenge presented to him. Only sorcery proved to be impossible. No matter how much Dark tried, he couldn’t master any type of spells or magic. Compared to the other minions in the castle, he felt inferior in this regard. He attempted to compensate by pushing himself harder in his training. During these times, a constant feeling of being watched hung over Dark. He did his best to ignore it while hoping his performance was enough to keep him alive in the castle.

Dark’s unease followed him into his sleep nearly every night. It warped his dreams, and he often jerked awake with a scream on his lips. The old hallucinations were intruding more than before, and newer dreams of strange, half-remembered images unnerved Dark further. One of his recurring dreams featured a person in a dark robe who stood and stared at Dark, saying over and over, “Don’t seek the darkness. Seek your light.”

“What light?” Dark would ask in these dreams. He knew of no such thing. Only the sunlight--and that was dangerous to him. Or was it?

“The voice in the well was the one who told me I should stay out of the light,” Dark said to himself one day after waking from another dream. “It said I would fade. Was it a lie?” He pressed a hand to his forehead and frowned. “Just tricky words used to keep me in line?”

There was a way to find out. The curtains covering the bedroom’s window didn’t block out all of the pale sunlight outside Ganondorf’s castle. A thin ray streamed into the room. Dark rolled out of bed and walked over to the window. He raised a pale hand towards the sunbeam, but hesitated on the verge of extending his fingers into the light. He could see dust motes dancing in it. Dark fancied trying to catch them, and his fingers flexed and clenched repeatedly as he debated. After a minute or so, he dropped his hand with a sigh.

“What am I doing?” Dark muttered, and he turned towards his bed. “I need to get some sleep. Not play around with the sun.” He dropped onto the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

#

It was the strange person again, still dressed in the black, hooded robe. A soft, female voice--barely above a whisper--spoke out from beneath the heavy fabric of the deep hood. “Why do you fear the light?”

Dark was in a chamber that struck him as familiar. A pool of poisonous water was on either side of him; he was standing on a narrow path that ran between them. Behind him was an open doorway, and before him was a great stone wall with writing engraved into it. Dark could see only part of the engraving, for the figure’s seated form blocked much of it from his view. When the chamber finally clicked in Dark’s memory he whirled around with a gasp, expecting to see a corpse crawling up behind him. 

“Do not fear,” the hooded figure called. “There is nothing here that will harm you.” Dark turned forward, and the figure asked, “Why are you not seeking the light you need?”

Dark shook his head. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

“I don’t mean the literal light,” the figure elaborated. “Not in the sense that you’re thinking. I mean your light--the other half to your dark. Why do you not seek that which would complete you?”

“Why are you talking in riddles?” Dark retorted in a sharp tone. “If you have something to ask me, or to say to me, then say it outright. We won’t get anywhere going around in circles.”

The figure sighed and said, “Fine. You were a mistake, Dark.” Dark flinched at the blunt pronouncement. “You should have never existed in the sense that you do now. Your life now… It’s not complete. You’re broken. Should you die, there would be nothing left behind to mark your time in this world--no spirit, no memory. Your fractured existence will crumble, and you’ll fade. The same holds true for your light. This world needs the memory of its heroes. To see such a thing pass…” The hooded head shook from side to side.

Dark couldn’t stop a chill from running up his spine. “You’re talking as if I’m not really alive.”

“You’re not,” the figure confirmed, and Dark flinched again. “Not in the normal sense. Dark, there are two sides to everything. The front and back of a rupee. The dull and sharp edges of a blade. The sun of the day, and the moon of the night. Two make a whole. Without one, the other would lose all meaning. Dark, you must seek your light if you want to become whole again. To be _relevant_ once more.”

Dark’s pulse had quickened. There was a terrible force behind the figure’s soft words. It pressed on him and brought sweat to his brow. “Who says I want to be whole?” he barked in a cracking voice. “I’m perfectly happy as I am! I’ve been doing fine all these years!”

_My name is Ella_

Dark grimaced and pressed a hand to his forehead. “I’m fine,” he reiterated with more shake in his words.

“You’re happy with no memories?” the figure asked. Dark looked up at her with a miserable expression. “You’re happy not knowing who you truly are, or where you belong?” The figure leaned forward over her folded legs. “Do you believe your half-existence will always sustain you? You are the definition of living dead, Dark, and soon even that will no longer apply to you. Time is not on your side. Your sun is setting, and your shadow grows long. When night falls, that shadow will fade into the darkness for good.”

“Stop it!” Dark cried. None of this sounded good, and it was making him feel more confused. “Just tell me what I have to do,” he begged in a tone of defeat. He wanted to wake up. He wanted this strange dream to end.

“Seek your light,” the figure replied. “Can you feel it? Can you feel _him?”_ Dark felt nothing, and he shook his head. “He can’t seek you,” the figure continued. “You’re lost to him, and I can only speak to you like this, so you must find a way back on your own. If you can find a source of great power, it may be possible.” The figure fell into a musing silence for a moment. “If you can find a source of power, a path can be made. It can act as a means and perhaps… perhaps a link can be born.”

Dark’s hugged his chest. He felt cold. “What will happen if I don’t see this light, or… or find a power… or whatever it is you’re trying to say?”

“Your answer lies in the prayer carved into the stone behind me,” the figure replied, and she recited, _“The rising sun will eventually set; a newborn’s life will fade. From sun to moon, moon to sun; give peaceful rest to the living dead.”_ She paused before adding, “You are the newborn, Dark. Young, ignorant, and fading with every day passed. Only in your case there will be no peaceful rest upon death. Only emptiness greater than that in your head.”

Where was this sudden despair in Dark’s chest coming from? Why was he feeling so alone--so lost? “I don’t know who I am,” Dark nearly sobbed. “So how do you expect me to find anything when I don’t even know myself?”

“Find your light, and you’ll remember everything.”

Dark was tired of hearing those same words. “I need better direction than that!”

The figure stood up, and her robe fanned out. Its black folds encased the entire chamber. Dark fell into the seamless backdrop and opened his eyes onto the ceiling of his small room in Ganondorf’s castle. Someone was banging on his door. The sounds were strange in their normality after the vivid dream. Dark groaned and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Seated there, he paused to glance at his window. There was no more light filtering between the curtains. The sun had set on another day.

The banging insisted on catching Dark’s full attention. He snapped to his feet and shouted, “I’m coming! The Goddesses be damned, you’re all so impatient!” Dark seized the knob, yanked the door open, and found a stalfos standing on the other side. “What?”

The stalfos hesitated in the wake of Dark’s near-snarl. It finally rattled out, “Lord Vaati has invited you to his chambers.”

“Is that so?” Dark snapped. “Well, you can tell _his lordship_ that I’m too tired, and I’m going back to bed.” He slammed the door in the stalfos’s face. Dark was in no mood to be called upon, especially after a month’s silence from the Wind Mage. He was exhausted to his core, and he needed another few hours’ worth of sleep.

Dark awoke from his sleep a second time when he felt the pressure of blood rushing to his head. His eyes snapped open onto a confusing view. It took him a moment to understand he was hanging upside down. When the realization hit him, his limbs flailed; he thought he was falling. No limbs responded, for they were restricted by coils of swift wind--the same winds keeping Dark aloft.

“Why did you refuse my order?” 

Dark heard the question, but only by twisting his neck did he see the young Wind Mage who had asked it. Vaati was seated to Dark’s left in a chair by the wall. He was picking at his nails with the sharp tip of a dagger. With fear, Dark noted the nails had lengthened to points well over an inch long, and Vaati’s ears were longer, more pointed, and ragged along the upper edges. When the Wind Mage spoke, long incisors flashed between his pale lips in the room’s torchlight.

“You must understand, Dark, that I have a reputation to maintain around here,” Vaati continued before Dark could reply. “Do you think someone like me became Ganondorf’s second-in-command simply by my looks? I’ve proven myself capable, and in order to maintain respect I must keep my subjects in line. By refusing my order, you tell everyone you don’t see me as someone deserving of respect.” Vaati spread his hands for a brief moment and shook his head. “Before you know it, that same attitude will spread throughout the ranks. Therefore, I must snuff out dissent at the source.” 

Vaati glanced up from his work, and Dark saw his ruby eyes had darkened to maroon. “I was thinking you would serve as a fine host for a large selection of leever larvae. Of course, they only mature in decaying bodies…” Vaati looked down again and shaved off a sliver of nail from a finger; the blade made a faint _shick_ against the sharpened keratin. “But I can arrange that.”

A thought struck Dark, and he snatched at it. “It wasn’t an order.”

Vaati looked up with a thin eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry--what?”

“It wasn’t an order,” Dark repeated. “It was an invitation. That’s what the stalfos said to me. And invitations can be refused, right? I was tired, and I didn’t feel at my best. Would you have wanted me to present myself in that condition? If there was any confusion about whether or not your invitation was mandatory, I’d blame the stalfos. Go sharpen your pretty nails on him.”

After a long pause, the dagger vanished up Vaati’s sleeve, and he stood up to walk over to Dark’s suspended form. The Hylian hung stiff in his tense body and waited for whatever punishment was about to befall him. While he waited, he studied Vaati’s eyes. The anger was gone; now there was a calculating look to them. When the Wind Mage’s hand moved, Dark flinched. Cold fingertips fell against his cheek, almost caressing. Had Dark’s words changed his fate?

Vaati’s fingers moved away. Dark noticed too late that the hand was drawing back in a swing. It swept forward in a swift arc, and the nails sliced deep into the right side of Dark’s neck and cheek. They drew five lines that burned like fire and seeped a copious amount of blood. Dark screamed not only because the blow hurt, but also because he felt Vaati wanted to see a clear sign of pain.

In this he was right. The Wind Mage appeared satisfied as he watched the blood trail into Dark’s hair to drip down to his mattress. He sampled the blood on his fingers with relish before reaching the same hand out to seize Dark’s dampened hair in a painful grip. “This will be the only mistake of yours I will overlook,” Vaati hissed. “When I call upon you tomorrow you will arrive promptly, or next time I’ll remove your entire head. There are no _invitations_ when it comes to me, Dark. No requests or appeals, either. It is do, or die. I do not tolerate insubordination--do you understand?”

“Yes,” Dark replied through clenched teeth. Vaati smirked and released his grip, and Dark fell down. He barely managed to turn his body enough to avoid a broken neck. When he straightened up, he found he was alone in the room. For a moment, Dark sat on the edge of his bed and attempted to wrap his mind around the close encounter with death. It certainly wasn’t his first, but it was his most harrowing. The pain radiating around his thoughts and the blood dripping to his hand reminded him his wounds couldn’t be ignored. Dark left his bedroom for the washroom where he cleaned and wrapped his neck and cheek as well as he could. The wounds healed quickly once Dark found magic potion, yet they left their marks on his healed skin. For the rest of his short career in Ganondorf’s castle, Dark was daily reminded of what Vaati had down to him, and he fantasized about seeking retribution.

#

When Dark arrived at Vaati’s chambers the next day, he found them bright and airy. The windows were plentiful, and while their view was the usual bleak blackness of the broken land of Hyrule, the breeze coming through was constant and pleasant. It ruffled the thin curtains, and made the cages hanging from the ceiling sway in its wake. There were creatures in the cages. Some of them snarled and snuffled behind red veils. Others cried in despair. Thin, decaying hands stuck out between the bars of the quieter cages. Against the pale blues and grays of the décor, it was a striking contrast.

Tea and light refreshments were arranged on a round table. Vaati was seated at it, looking wholly normal again and enjoying a cup of tea. To his right, in another chair, sat the stalfos that had delivered Vaati’s request to Dark the previous day; the monster looked terrified to share a table with the Wind Mage. A cup of tea sat before it, but the stalfos had yet to pick it up. When Dark was invited to take the third seat, the stalfos cast him a silent, imploring look. For both their sakes, Dark pretended not to notice.

Vaati greeted his guest with a smile and said, “Thank you for joining us today, Dark.” His eyes lingered over the healing cuts that marred Dark’s neck and cheek before they twitched to the stalfos. “I hope you don’t mind our guest. I thought I would make an example of our fine stalfos troops on the proper way to behave at the table. Have you seen the ill manners of these monsters? Revolting.” Vaati drew a face and took a sip of tea. His guests hesitated, and he flailed an encouraging hand. “Go on, drink! It’s not poisoned.”

Dark wasn’t ready to start disobeying Vaati again. He took up his cup and took a cautious sip. It was surprisingly smoothing in taste and temperature, and he found himself relaxing despite the apprehension running rampant through him. The stalfos wasn’t as collected as Dark. It was having trouble handling the delicate teacup with its bony fingers.

“So Dark,” Vaati prompted while the stalfos struggled. “I suppose you’ve been anxiously awaiting my summons. I’ve been watching you all this time. You’ve been continuing with your swordplay. That’s good. And you’re excelling at it--that’s even better. Pinkie extended, bone-bag, unless you want to lose it.”

The stalfos shot out the pinkie bones of the hand that had finally managed to grasp its teacup. Dark extended his just as swiftly while Vaati’s attention was focused on the monster.

“That skill will come in handy,” Vaati picked up, and he turned his attention back to Dark. “If I’m to take Ganondorf down to make way for my empire I’ll need the one weapon that can harm him, and someone to wield it.”

Dark forced politeness into his voice. “And what is that weapon?”

“The Master Sword,” Vaati answered. “Currently in the hands of the troublesome Hero of Time.” He cast a smirk at Dark when he said this, as if Dark was supposed to be in on a private joke.

Dark didn’t know what he should find funny, but he could see ahead in Vaati’s plan. “You want me to be the wielder of this Master Sword?” he asked, and Vaati nodded. “Then I’ll have to…”

“Defeat the Hero in battle,” Vaati finished with a nod.

“Where so many have failed,” Dark tacked on, his face dark.

“You are different from those others,” Vaati said, again with the unreadable smirk. “I have full confidence in you. And once I’m the ruler of this land, I will assure you a high place in my ranks. Don’t you dare reach across the table, bone-bag. If you want something, you ask for it to be passed to you.”

The stalfos withdrew the bony hand it had extended to the teapot and dropped its glowing eyes to its lap. Dark felt a stab of pity for the creature. Without prompt, he refilled the stalfos’s empty teacup.

Once Dark was finished, Vaati resumed detailing his plan. “I’ll have you meet the hero in a predetermined spot, and I’ll make sure the area is confusing in order to give you an advantage--illusions, for the most part, but I can also provide you with some artifacts that will allow you to perform sorcery, if needed. I haven’t been blind to your ineptitude when it comes to magic. Like I said before, I’ve been watching you.”

Dark felt he was swiftly approaching the verge of some great chasm, and that once he took a step into its void he would not be able to return to the safety of the ledge. He would either sail through whatever challenge awaited him, or he would plummet to an unfortunate end. The only problem with sailing was the fact that he would be supported by the winds of the maniacal Vaati. Which was the worst option?

Vaati was watching Dark, no longer smirking. Eventually, he cut into the Hylian’s thoughts. “There’s still time to back out of my little deal. We have a while before the hero arrives to the place I have in mind. If you don’t want any hand in overthrowing Ganondorf I’ll completely understand, and I won’t hold it against you.”

_Lies,_ Dark thought with sudden viciousness. _Your words are lies. Tricks. In many ways, Vaati, you’re no different from the voice in the well._ And with that thought, the first inkling of a plan of revenge formed in Dark’s mind.

Dark put his thoughts aside once more when Vaati said, “Give it some thought. Until then, I won’t summon you anymore. You need your sleep, after all, and I don’t want to take away your time with training, so you may go. Now as for you, bone-bag…”

Dark had already gained his feet, but he paused for a moment when he heard the anger in Vaati’s tone. The stalfos heard it as well, and began to quake in its seat.

Vaati smiled at the stalfos and purred, “You don’t expect me to keep you alive after what you’ve heard, do you?” The stalfos opened its bony jaw to protest, but Vaati overrode it. “You should have realized we were discussing something you had no business hearing, and politely excused yourself from the table. Because you failed to do that, I must now eliminate you.”

Dark didn’t stick around to witness whatever punishment Vaati had in store for the stalfos; his own wounds still burned. However, he couldn’t block out the cries that followed him for most of his trip back to his room. Upon reaching his room, Dark closed the door swiftly behind him before dropping down onto his bed. He wasn’t tired, but his head was swirled with countless thoughts. He closed his eyes against them in hopes of finding some order.

_The Master Sword…_

Dark frowned. Why did those words feel so familiar? The name of that mythical blade resonated strongly within him. From what he had heard, the Master Sword wasn’t wielded by just anyone. So why was Vaati confident that Dark could not only defeat the Hero of Time, but also take the sword as his own? What was the Wind Mage basing these assumptions upon?

“Well, there’s one obvious explanation,” Dark thought aloud. “Vaati knows something about me--something he’s not telling me. How else can he promise that I’ll find out about myself if I go along with his plan?” This conclusion left Dark with few choices: to do as Vaati wanted, or continue to live in ignorance of his past.

“Or…” Dark picked up, “Or I could go along with Vaati--for now. And when the time is right…” His mind was picking up the fragments of the plan he had started to realize during his teatime with Vaati. There were many _ifs_ in the plan, and there was the manner of how to execute it, but Dark would take care of those details later; on the fly, if he had to. For now, he contented himself with the thought that soon, in one way or another, he would come to some conclusion on this chapter of his life.


	9. A Glance at a Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle with the Hero of Time draws near to Dark, but winning it may not provide him with the answers he desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fifty hits! Thank you, I appreciate it greatly. Comments, questions, constructive criticism, and kudos are all welcomed. I respond to everything with enthusiasm.
> 
> This is the second-to-last chapter of this short fanfic. Please enjoy, thank you.

# -The Cast Shadow-

### A Glance at a Truth

_Through a red eye, the world revealed its secrets to him. Pathways, doorways, ways that were forgotten… Monsters, specters, and things best forgotten… Nothing escaped the eye’s sight._

_But the eye took its toll. The price for the use of its power was one’s very energy; siphoned out of the user whenever their gaze saw with the eye. The price was steep, but easily replenished. More shocking to one’s body and mind was seeing something through the eye that chilled them to the bone._

#

Dark opened his eyes with the feeling that he was forgetting something.

Then he remembered: He had forgotten everything. That was his problem.

However, today was supposed to change some of that. Vaati had heard from Ganondorf that the Hero of Time was within the Water Temple, seeking to break the frozen curse placed on the Zora people. Within the bowels of the labyrinthine temple, Dark would be pit against the Hero, and with luck he would succeed in taking possession of the Master Sword.

During his time in Ganondorf’s castle, Dark had picked up on what the Hero was attempting to accomplish. He was gathering the power of the six elemental Sages in order to become strong enough to defeat Ganondorf. He was progressing rapidly in his search, but the Water Temple was slowing him down with its confusing structure and flooded rooms. If Ganondorf was to take his enemy down, he needed to do it now while the Hero was confused and fatigued.

“That’s where I come in,” Vaati said to Dark a few days before the scheduled battle. “Or rather, _you_ come in,” he corrected with a toothy grin. “I’ve already offered my help in this matter, and Ganondorf accepted it. Therefore, you will fight the Hero in the Water Temple. Now take these and practice with them. Succeed, or I’ll give you a reasonable excuse for failure when I remove your head.”

Vaati supplied Dark with two objects for his battle. One was an amulet that would allow him to become transparent and harder to hit. Combined with the shifting mists Vaati planned to cast in the designated room, Dark would be like a ghost and--in theory--harder to defeat. The amulet was easy to use, for it did its work without any input on Dark’s part. 

The pin that was the Vaati’s second gift was harder to master. Made of an unknown bone and infused with some of the Wind Mage’s power, it allowed Dark to teleport a short distance--perfect for getting behind his target. The hardest part of using the pin was concentrating enough to direct the power to the point where Dark wanted to appear. With Dark’s distracted thoughts and the Stalfos he fought during his training, this proved a difficult task. It took him the better part of two days to become efficient with the pin.

“Good enough,” Vaati remarked with a nod of his head when he later tested Dark. “I’m impressed, Dark. You don’t die today. Congratulations.”

Dark celebrated with a night of deep sleep. He was tire to his core, and he needed rest if he was to have any chance of surviving the next day’s battle. However, once again his sleep was interrupted by strange dreams. After waking from one, Dark lay in bed and stared at the ceiling in an attempt to remember more than flashes. Between his efforts to discern something recognizable, he couldn’t help but think the next day’s fight would go terribly wrong.

The first hint that Dark might be right came to him the next evening when he went to the castle’s entrance hall to meet Vaati. A group of monsters were running in and out of the hall, shouting orders in various languages and looking much harried. Vaati stood amongst them with a scowl on his face. His sharp incisors were bared, and his lengthened nails dripped blood; a gutted wolfos lay nearby. 

Dark skirted the corpse and sidled up to Vaati’s side. “I’m here,” he announced, in case the Wind Mage was too wrapped in rage to notice.

Vaati noticed. He whirled around to face Dark and spat, “I know that!” He stalked away, giving the dead wolfos a kick on his way to the other side of the hall.

Dark hesitated, but followed the Wind Mage to a window. Vaati wiped the blood from his hands on the hem of his shirt before crossing his arms over his chest. One of his long nails tapped against his sleeve. “There’s a situation,” he explained in a terse voice. “The Hero of Time is not in the Water Temple. I sent my scouts into the temple to gauge his position, and they returned to tell me he wasn’t there.” Vaati nodded towards the scrambling monsters. “They’re using various means to find him, but he hasn’t turned up yet. I don’t understand. He’s been doing this for nearly two months. He’s a capable young man. Why has he gone missing now? What could have happened?”

“Did he die in the Water Temple?” Dark asked.

Vaati shook his head. “No. There’s no sign of that.” His ragged ears twitched. “Why does everyone have to be so uncooperative?”

Dark wanted to be the exact opposite of uncooperative. The scars on his neck and cheek reminded him of the cost of being difficult. “Let me search for him,” Dark suggested. “I’ll go out into the fields to find him.”

Vaati opened his mouth to reply; he looked ready to agree. He was cut off by a stalfos that walked up to the window. “The Hero has returned to the Water Temple,” the monster announced when Vaati and Dark turned around. It stretched its bony mouth in what was meant to be a smile.

Vaati flicked a finger, and the stalfos’s smile--along with the rest of it--was blasted away in a burst of wind magic. “Well, that solves our problem,” he said over the sound of clattering bones. “Now I can go forth with my plan to unseat Ganondorf. Dark, come with me. We need to get you properly dressed.”

Dark was already wearing a black tunic. To this Vaati added a floppy, conical hat of the same color, a sword and black shield, and the two magical objects. While Dark donned all of it, Vaati’s demonic features slipped away until he was normal once more. “I think you’re ready,” the Wind Mage announced when Dark was finished. “Now after you’ve killed the Hero, be sure to grab the Master Sword. Do not leave without that sword, Dark, unless you plan on hiding for the rest of your life--which won’t be very long, I assure you.”

“What happens if I do my best and I still can’t defeat him?” Dark asked.

“If you don’t kill him, he’ll kill you,” Vaati replied, and Dark flinched. “But don’t worry about that,” Vaati continued, and he threw a companionable arm over Dark’s shoulders. “I have high faith in you. I know you’ll defeat him.”

Now was a time for Dark to try and get some answers. “What makes you so sure I’ll defeat him?” he asked Vaati. “Does this faith of yours have anything to do with what you might know about me?”

Vaati’s bangs covered much of his face, but Dark saw him roll his eyes as he removed his arm. “What I might know about you is of little relevance now,” he said. Dark made to move closer to him; to challenge him. Vaati pushed his back with a delicate spread of fingers against his chest. “Defeat the Hero, bring me the Master Sword, and you’ll get your answers.”

“You give me your word?” Dark asked while he silently begged, _Please just tell me._

The small bit of anger that had darkened Vaati’s face now cleared, and he flashed a winning smile. “Dark,” he cooed, “have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?”

“You mean aside from the fact that you’re currently plotting against your king?” Dark countered.

Vaati smiled wider. “But I like you, Dark. I wouldn’t betray you. Kill you, perhaps. Torture you, definitely. But never _betray_ you.” He laughed at Dark’s less-than reassured expression. “Now! It’s time that I send you off to the Water Temple. You’ll arrive in the room I’ve set aside for your battle. Do not leave that room unless you have the Master Sword in hand, or you’re dead.”

Winds were circling Dark’s feet. Soon they encompassed his entire body. Their power lifted him off of the floor while Vaati stepped back with a final wish of good luck. A second later, the dark castle blurred in front of Dark’s eyes. He felt himself tipping at a dizzying angle, and he closed his eyes against the sight until his feet touched solid ground once more. His legs buckled at once, forcing him to his hands and knees. A wave of nausea was next while the world settled around him. When his limbs had ceased shaking, Dark gained his feet and looked around.

At first, the room’s appearance startled Dark, for there seemed to be no borders. Instead of walls, ceiling and floor, the room was a mist-filled land with jutting pieces of rock breaking the endless white landscape. By walking forward, Dark learned the walls of the room were existent; only disguised by the mirage. There was little else to the room. A lone tree stood in the middle of a patch of bare dirt--an odd choice of décor, Dark thought until he remembered the person who designed the room. Two doors, one on each end of the room, broke the illusion of an endless horizon, and a shallow spread of water coated the floor.

“Do I just sit and wait?” Dark wondered aloud. Only his echo answered him. Dark sighed and walked through the shallow water to the tree. There, he took a seat on the bare dirt and put his back to the trunk. His scabbard clanked softly against his shield, and he was reminded again of what his job would be whenever the Hero decided to arrive. To pass the time, he thought on what he knew of the Hero; not much, but enough to know that the young man was competent in various skills. Dark was only good at swordplay. Would that be enough to sustain him and secure a victory against his opponent?

A quarter hour later, the door to Dark’s left opened. He stood up and took his sword and shield into hand. The amulet hidden in his tunic was already working its magic; blending him with the mists and shadows of the room. He was at once invisible to the green-clad young man who walked into the room and paused to inspect it.

Iron bars slammed down before the door, blocking it off. Dark heard a similar locking mechanism fall over the opposite door. The Hero whirled around at the sound and backed up a few steps until he was ankle-deep in water. He spun around again, facing the room’s whole once more. His blue eyes were wary as he walked deeper into the room.

By the tree, Dark stood still and inspected his opponent. He looked young--too young to be shouldering such a task as saving Hyrule. With his tousled blonde bangs that stuck out of his hat, and the simple tunic he wore, he looked more like a child than the lauded Hero of Time. But Dark couldn’t be distracted or fooled by appearances. The young man was an enemy, so he had to be--

_Enemy?_ cut in a voice in Dark’s head. It sounded like Ella, and he grimaced. _What has he done to you? You’re simply following orders like a trained dog. You don’t even care if he has a life or loved ones, do you?_

The Hero was within ten feet of Dark, who found himself lowering his sword. To follow an order to kill a man--a boy, really--without questioning why… That was no better than what he had done for the well’s shadowy resident. What he had done to…

_My name is_

No, Dark decided. If he was to find the answers to his past, he had to get away from his present. He dropped his sword’s tip to the ground and reached out with his free hand for the Hero’s shoulder. He wanted to warn the young man of his enemies’ plans. That was the first, right step to take.

Perhaps hearing a footstep, or sensing Dark’s presence, the Hero whirled around before Dark could lay a finger on him. Blue eyes met red, and both young men staggered back a step in synchronized surprise. They stood and regarded each other for a while. The Hero’s gaze was confused but calculating. 

Dark’s eyes were wide in alarm and fear. There was a tinny whine growing in his ears. The world was blurring again, this time from his floundering thoughts. All Dark could see was the Hero’s face. He had seen that face before; those blue eyes; the blonde hair; the sure jaw. He had seen it in a tunnel of blue light. It had stared back at him in shock. Not as a reflection, but as another person.

Dark jerked back another step. “Who…” he began, but he had to stop. His mind was spinning faster at the thought of the impossibility. This young man… It couldn’t be…

“Because _I’m_ me, Dark said aloud. He raised his hands to his head and clenched at the hat there--a replica of the Hero’s, only black in color. “I’m _me,”_ Dark repeated, and he dragged the hat off of his head and threw it to the ground where he grinded it into the shallow water with a boot just like the Hero’s. _“I’m me!”_ Dark shouted. He raised his copy of the Hero’s Master Sword and advanced towards his enemy.

The Hero barely unsheathed his blade fast enough to block Dark’s first swing. Twice more he warded off an attack before Dark broke through the Hero’s meager defense. His sword swept up at a steep, vertical angle to cut deep into the Hero’s neck. The blade continued up to the young man’s ear, and he staggered back before dropping to the ground. The young man coughed twice, spitting blood, and managed a few ragged breaths. His eyes closed with a final cough, and the rest of his body stilled.

Dark remained upright, unharmed but shaken. His sword dripped blood to the ground, which joined the red stain spreading through the water by the Hero’s head. The sword was dropped seconds later. It clanged sharply against the floor, but the sound couldn’t block out Dark’s high scream.

“You did it already?”

Dark spun around and seized Vaati’s neck before the winds accompanying his appearance had fully dissipated. He forced the Wind Mage against the tree’s trunk and shouted into his face, _“Who am I?”_

Vaati grimaced when Dark’s fingers tightened. He reached up with a clawed hand and swiped at Dark’s arm. The Hylian released his grip with a cry of pain, and Vaati snarled, “Don’t you dare touch me again, you insignificant whelp!”

“Who am I?” Dark continued to press, his voice edged with desperation. “Tell me who I am! Why did you pit me against the Hero? Why did you dress me like him? Why do we look alike? _Answer my questions!”_

Vaati was putting his hair and clothes back into order, but at Dark’s questions he began to laugh; low at first, but the chuckles soon escalated into a high cackle that raised the hair on Dark’s neck. When the laughter died, Vaati cast a look of gentle amusement at Dark. “Who are you? I don’t know the answer to that. I don’t know anything about you, Dark. I only know what I can see, and what I see is a young man with an almost exact build, face, and skill level of the Hero. Now what does that tell you?” 

Vaati paused to allow Dark to answer, but the young man remained stunned and silent. “What it tells me,” the Wind Mage continued, “is that the two of you must share some connections. Perhaps you’re brothers or something. I know not and care not. I’m only happy that whatever you and the Hero share, it was enough of an edge to allow you to kill him.” Vaati walked past the reeling Dark and made his way to where the Hero lay sprawled on the ground.

“Who is this?”

At first, Dark thought Vaati was speaking about him. He opened his mouth to ask his own question, but the words dried up when he saw Vaati was staring down at the Hero with a look of mixed anger and confusion.

“This is _not_ the Hero of Time,” Vaati continued in a hiss. “This is _not_ Link.”

The name was like a jolt to the brain for Dark. Recognition slammed into his mind, and he reeled once more with another cry. He was seeing the blue light again. And all his nightmares… His hallucinations… They were bleeding together in a whirlwind of thought. They kicked up dust in long-forgotten chambers of his mind, and images and words swirled in his head.

Vaati stomped a foot, splashing pink water. “What in Ganondorf’s name is wrong with you?” he snapped at Dark. The Hylian had dropped to his knees with yet another tortured cry. His hands were clasped against his temples, and his nails dug into his skin, drawing lines of blood.

A low laugh echoed around the room. _Strange of you to mention my name, traitor,_ spoke a deep voice, and Vaati spat a livid curse. _Did you think you could hide your deceptions from me?_

“Deceptions, my lord?” Vaati called in a voice of mock cheerfulness. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

_The Hero of Time is here, Vaati, at my front door,_ Ganondorf’s voice revealed with another laugh. _He cleaned out the Water Temple days ago, and has steadily drawn closer to me over these past few days. I deliberately misled you with wrong information to catch you red-handed in your efforts to usurp me. The corpse at your feet is simply a replica of the true Hero, much like the young man you set against him._

Dark raised his tear-streaked face to the unseen ceiling of the room. “Replica?” he repeated in a whisper. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“May the Hero see you to your grave,” Vaati said with a mocking bow to the bodiless voice. Ganondorf’s answer was more laughter. As it echoed, Vaati turned a furious look onto Dark and strode over to him. His delicate hands yanked the Hylian to his feet and shook him. “You useless shadow!” Vaati snarled. “I don’t know who or what created you, but you must tell me where you gained your existence!”

“I--What--”

Vaati shook Dark again. “There is dark energy seeped into your very mind,” he hissed. “Someone made you into what you are now. Take me to them! I need that strength to face the Hero when he defeats Ganondorf!”

_He won’t defeat me,_ Ganondorf put in. _Once I’m done with him, I will come for you and your shadow puppet, Wind Mage._

Dark was frightened and confused. What Vaati’s and Ganondorf’s remarks were suggesting…

Vaati slapped Dark across his scarred cheek. _“Where is your ex-master?”_

Dark couldn’t wrap his tumbled head around what was going on. Half-remembered thoughts were still awhirl. He felt displaced from his body; as if he didn’t belong in it. With every glance at the nameless corpse, the desire to belong somewhere--to have stability and reassurance in his existence--increased tenfold. “I…” Dark began, only to break off when a stab of pain sliced through his mind, bringing with it another unfamiliar memory.

_I’m sorry, but… I lied to you._

_What do you mean?_

_The Lens of Truth is not in this tomb. I lied. I led you here for a different purpose._

“I was a mistake,” Dark whispered when the rest of the memory fell into place. “I wasn’t supposed to exist. That’s why she abandoned me--to cover her mistake.”

“What are you going on about?” Vaati snapped.

A new voice entered Dark’s jumbled mind. It was faint, having traveled far to reach him, but Dark latched onto the words like a baby clutching at its mother. _Child… Poor, suffering Dark… The world may have forgotten you, little shadow, but I am still here. I still wait for you. And I will help you if you help me._ The voice dropped lower into a sinister whisper. _Bring the Mage to me._

Dark’s clouded eyes sharpened, and he fixed a distant, crafty look onto Vaati. The Wind Mage read it as another sign of Dark’s encroaching madness. “I’ll take you there,” Dark said. “To my master.” His half-formed plan for revenge grew clearer. It pushed away the images and words that threatened his sanity. He was able to think without distraction as everything played out in his imagination, and new confidence overrode old fear. “I’ll take you to my master, Vaati. He would love to meet someone with your power and potential.”

Vaati’s thin lips spread into a smile that warped his young face into one of demon-like quality. “Wonderful,” he purred. “Just lead the way.”


	10. Light and Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark comes to the conclusion of his half-life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of _The Cast Shadow._ I hope you've all enjoyed reading it. Thank you very much for your support! Please enjoy.

# -The Cast Shadow-

### Light and Dark

There was an ache in Dark’s body. It throbbed with each step he took on his way to Kakariko Village under the night sky. To him, it felt as if a deep gash was in his chest; a gash that was always there, but only just recently re-opened. Now it widened little by little, leaking life. Soon, he would be torn into two by it. He was sure of it.

What was this strange feeling? Dark had come to know it after laying eyes upon Link. No, not Link. The replica of the Hero, who now lay dead and anonymous in the Water Temple, face pale and splattered with blood. Dark felt dead and anonymous as well. Some vital part of him was missing--was always missing--and until now he had never fully realized its importance. He was less than alive without it. He was living dead. He needed to find where he came from--where he belonged--if he was going to feel whole again.

Was the well--that dark, foreboding hole in the ground--where Dark belonged? When his old master urged him on, Dark almost felt complete. But that bodiless voice wasn’t enough to hold him together for long. The gash couldn’t be healed. It left an opening for doubt and fear to work their ways inward where they circled in Dark’s empty head as he walked. Memories were kicked up in their wake; memories that Dark had never seen before, yet still felt like a part of his past. With every other step, the Hero’s face flashed in Dark’s mind. It was always the same: staring at him in surprise, backlit by a blue light. And in Dark’s hands… He could almost feel a sword’s hilt…

“Is this it?”

Dark snapped back to full awareness. He found himself standing by the old service entrance to Kakariko Village’s well. Vaati stood across from him on the other side of the round entrance, looking on with doubt in his face. Dark raised a hand and ran it over his left cheek. His skin felt cold and clammy, but there was something within the well that was giving him strength. “This is it,” he confirmed, and he dropped his hand and straightened his back. “Can’t you feel it?”

Vaati focused on the entrance, and after a few seconds his red eyes widened behind his long, lilac bangs. His thin lips parted, and his sharp teeth glinted between them. “There’s a hungry power down there,” the Wind Mage remarked. “I could do a lot of damage with power like that.”

Dark doubted Vaati would have the opportunity to harvest his master’s power, but he smiled as if he didn’t harbor these thoughts. “Then we shouldn’t keep your plans for conquest waiting. Let’s go. I’ll lead the way.”

They descended down the ladder; Dark first, with Vaati following closely. With each step down another rung, Dark felt the cold of the well surround him a little more, along with the familiar and reassuring presence of his old master. Yet Dark had to be careful. This was a dangerous entity he had once abandoned. Would it seek revenge on him? Or would it be satisfied with Vaati, and Dark’s abandonment would be overlooked? Dark had to hope for the latter, but prepare for the former.

After reaching the first landing, Dark waited on it until Vaati had descended the last few rungs before starting down the second half of the ladder. His hands and feet found each rung with easy familiarity, and he even remembered to skip the loose rung a third of the way down. He considered warning Vaati, about it, but listening to the Wind Mage’s outrage was far more satisfying. Vaati was still struggling and cursing some feet above when Dark stepped down onto solid ground. An easy sigh escaped him, and he closed his eyes.

_Welcome home, child._

There was no hint of malice in the voice. It was as comforting as an old friend.

_I have a gift for you._

Dark opened his eyes when he heard a familiar clicking sound. A small shadow darted out from around a corner of the hall, and Dark smiled at it. The shadow scurried to him and climbed his limbs to perch upon his shoulder. It wasn’t the same floormaster that was killed by the stalfos’s arrow, but it was a fine replacement. The monster ran back and forth across Dark’s shoulders, and he laughed when its nails tickled the back of his neck.

Vaati dropped the last foot to the floor and brushed dust from his clothes. He looked to Dark and was momentarily startled when he saw a floormaster perched upon the young man’s outstretched arm. “Where did that come from?” Vaati asked.

The floormaster tensed and worked its slow way up Dark’s arm, where it took an intimidating, splayed finger stance on his left shoulder. Dark lowered his arm and clicked his tongue. The floormaster relaxed, and Dark glanced over his right shoulder to cast Vaati an eerie smile.

The expression unnerved Vaati, and he snapped in a strained voice, “Where do we go from here?”

Dark was quiet for a few seconds before he replied, “The basement. Follow me.” He struck off down the hall in a confident walk with the floormaster riding atop his shoulder like a macabre parrot. 

Vaati followed on eager feet. Now that he was within the well proper, he could feel stirring power all around him. It was an old power, and quite strong, but Vaati didn’t believe there would be any trouble harnessing it. He had skills of his own, and he was confident in his abilities. And once this power was collected, he would get rid of the strange shadow, Dark. He wanted no strings left dangling.

Dark couldn’t read minds, but he could guess these thoughts were running through Vaati’s mind. He only had to look hard enough at the Wind Mage to know he intended to leave no witnesses to his rise to power. Yet it wasn’t Vaati whom Dark was worried about. He was more concerned with his chances of fleeing the well alive once its dark presence got what it wanted from the Wind Mage; welcoming or not, the voice was devious.

These worries frayed at Dark’s thoughts and combined with his fears and doubts, which had spawned in the Water Temple. He found himself suffering from flashes of strange sights that replaced the well’s features for half-seconds at a time. There was a tinny whistle growing in his ears as well, and the ache in his mind and body throbbed. When Dark paused a moment to put a hand to his chest, the floormaster on his shoulder stroked a concerned finger down his neck. 

“I’m fine,” Dark murmured. “I just feel… disconnected.”

Vaati’s harsh tone cut into Dark’s troubled thoughts. “Are we almost there?”

Within a few minutes, Dark had led Vaati to a dim basement room lit by blue firelight. A pool of acid took up most of the floor space; Dark approached its edge in trepidation. He had always left this part to his old floormaster. He had an idea he was supposed to get Vaati into the acid--the exposed skeletons sticking out of the pool told him that much. But Dark doubted the Wind Mage would willingly walk into the acidic mess no matter what lie he was told.

The floormaster tapped Dark’s shoulder, and he turned his head to study it. A few seconds of silent understanding passed between them, and Dark felt a pang of sadness in his gaping chest. “Are you sure?” he whispered. The floormaster tapped a finger more firmly. Dark nodded his reluctant agreement.

Vaati moved to the edge of the pool and marked the acid with an unimpressed eye. “Is this it?” he asked. The Wind Mage didn’t see Dark teleport behind him using the small, enchanted pin he was earlier given. “I don’t understand why you brought me here.”

“Vaati.”

Vaati first looked to his left and found Dark gone. He turned around next and found the young man glaring at him with a tense floormaster on his shoulder. 

No signal was necessary. The floormaster launched itself through the air at Vaati, who was too startled to react. When the monster hit the Wind Mage, it was fully grown; its weight sent Vaati falling back. They tipped into the acid with a large splash, and Vaati’s screams rent the air at once. They cut off when his head sunk below the acid’s surface.

It was hard for Dark to watch the struggling Wind Mage--not because he was squeamish, but because he didn’t want to watch another faithful floormaster meet its end. The monster was sacrificing itself to hold Vaati down in the acid. Already parts of its flesh were eaten down to the bone. Vaati was in just as bad a condition. The hands flailing and beating at the heavy floormaster were red and blistering, and his clothes were going up in smoke. His half-melted face broke the surface of the acid for a moment, and a wet, choked scream escaped him. The floormaster pressed down harder, and both it and the Wind Mage vanished fully into the acid.

Something stirred in the air above the acidic pool. Dark’s old master was harvesting Vaati’s power. Dark could almost see the demonic presence hovering over the pool, soaking up the power like dry earth absorbed rain. Did that mean Vaati was dead? Dark shifted to the pool’s edge and studied the acid. No bubbles or ripples marked where Vaati and the floormaster had disappeared. Dark nodded in grim satisfaction. Vaati had lied to him. He had betrayed Dark with his broken promises. Now Vaati had paid for those transgressions. 

Dark turned away from the acid with a grim, satisfied nod. It was time to escape the well. The bodiless presence was growing as it fed. Dark had to flee while it was distracted by its feast. He was a moment away from using the pin to teleport again when there came a loud splash, and something seized his right ankle. Dark fell forward onto his stomach with a grunt and at once tried to gain his feet. The grip around his ankle tugged his backwards across the ground.

Dark looked back to see Vaati had half-emerged from the acid. The Wind Mage was little more than dripping muscle and withering bones. Empty eye sockets stared at Dark from within a bald, melting skull, and bared incisors were exposed through patchy, red lips. The hand around Dark’s ankle was skeletal, but there was enough strength left in it to drag him towards the acid. His foot sank into the pool, and he screamed in pain when the acid swiftly ate into his boot and pants, seeking the flesh they protected.

_“Shadow…”_

The word was more of a sibilant hiss than anything else, and it chilled Dark to the bone. He couldn’t move; he was frozen by shock and fear. The hand tugged again, and Dark’s leg sunk into the acid up to his knee. 

The fresh pain shook Dark out of his paralysis. He renewed his screams and attempted to pull himself away from the pool. Pain and fear shook his body, and made his arms feel like jelly. He slumped onto his stomach and gritted his teeth as the acid ate away at him. He had to… He had to try…

He had another leg. It was folded against the ground, untouched by the acid.

Dark snapped his uninjured leg out in a sudden burst of strength. The sole of his boot connected with what remained of Vaati’s head, and the dying Wind Mage recoiled. Dark kicked out again and again, connecting hard with each impact until his foot began to sink into Vaati’s destroyed skull. 

Only when he felt the hand around his ankle loosen did Dark finally stop and turn his efforts towards pulling his injured leg free of the acid. He wiggled across the ground, forcing his aching body to work, until the last of his leg was pulled free. The boot was burned through at many places, revealing the blistered skin and raw, underlying muscle of Dark’s foot. His pants were eaten away up to his knee, and the exposed skin wept blood. Dark hugged his injured leg to his chest and lay on the ground, his mind and body swathed in agony.

_It is done._

Dark’s pained whimpers tapered off, and he raised his head. The air in the room was changed. It felt heavier; more dangerous. Dark knew at once there would be trouble if he didn’t escape. His old master’s plans were complete. Vaati’s power was the final push it needed to fully awaken.

_Child, you have been of great help,_ the familiar voice whispered in Dark’s mind while he attempted to gain his feet. _I could not have done this without you. I am reborn a second time, and I can now slay that Hero who defeated me. So in return for your help, I will grant you the gift of eternal life._

Dark paused, braced on his hands and good knee. “Eternal life?” he repeated. He was wary, but the prospect sounded good. Perhaps with eternal life, he wouldn’t fade to nothingness like the person in his dream had warned him.

_Yes,_ the voice whispered. _You will become a part of me and live forever, much like all of the other victims you brought to me over the years._

“No…”

The air shifted, and Dark felt a heavy presence fall over him. It tugged on his body, and he knew he was about to be pulled once more into the acid--this time more effectively.

_Your old friend Vaati is here. And the floormaster you just sacrificed. And of course Ella is here as well. Do you remember her? Do you remember how you led her to her death? She wants to thank you, Dark…_

_“No!”_

Dark fought against the power pulling on him, and it broke away. He forced himself onto his feet with a strength he thought was gone. But his injured leg gave out beneath his weight, and he fell to his hands and knees. The pin… If he could concentrate, he could teleport…

The pin was unresponsive. Dark pulled it off of his tunic and saw that the bone was deeply cracked. Its power had died with Vaati. Crawling was now Dark’s only option. He could see the ladder that led to the upper floors, and he headed towards it. He wasn’t going to become a victim. He was going to escape and finally be free of everyone who wanted to hurt or use him. He would become his own person. Maybe that would be enough to heal the aching gash in him; to fill his empty head.

The presence didn’t pull at Dark again. Nevertheless, he could feel it stalking him as he climbed the ladder with painful slowness. His right leg was useless, but he still had two arms and another leg. Biting back the throbbing pain in his foot and the deeper pain in his chest, Dark worked his way up the rungs and collapsed onto the landing at the top of the ladder. Yet there was no time to rest. He had to escape the well. He pulled himself onto his good foot and walked along the wall, using it as a support. As he limped down the halls and around corners, he wondered why the well’s demonic presence didn’t pounce upon him. What was it waiting for?

Dark understood the presence’s intentions in the split second before he tipped fully into a concealed hole in the floor. It hadn’t pounced because it was waiting for him to slip up on his own. In Dark’s panic and desire to escape, he forgot about the well’s tricks. 

There was a moment of weightlessness where Dark had a clear, fleeting image of looking at himself across the hilt of a sword as a temple steadied around him. Then he stopped falling. A sudden, sharp spike of pain blacked out his mind. When he came to, he couldn’t feel anything.

Dark wasn’t dead. That mercy had evaded him. He could still see the blue firelight and the broken structure of the well’s dilapidated basement. He had fallen into the very room he had fled. Upon this realization, Dark tried to sit up to attempt a new escape. His body didn’t respond to any commands. He was paralyzed, and his old master now pounced upon him. Dark saw rather than felt his body lift off the ground. A brief spike of renewed fear struck him when he remembered the acid.

_No, child, I’ve decided to spare you that pain._

The words were far from comforting, but Dark cared little. More and more of him was slipping away. His body was growing transparent, and parts of it were disappearing like sand blown away by a high wind. He was fading to nothingness.

_No, not nothingness. You’re a part of me now. This is where you belong._

But that couldn’t be right. Dark still felt empty. Even with no body, he felt misplaced; detached. This was _not_ where he belonged.

_Worry not, child. Soon, those feelings will go away. Soon, you will remember nothing once again._

Dark didn’t want that. For all the years he could recall, he had tried to remember where he belonged and where he came from. Now he was going to be as far away from an answer as possible. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Dark began to struggle against the presence that was wrapped around him.

_Enough, Dark! Your half-life is over! Stay with me. See what freedoms my power allows!_

The well was sweeping away. Acid was replaced by stone, stone was replaced by cool grass, and now the starry sky hung over Dark. He was unimpressed. He had seen those same stars almost every night for years. He wanted to experience the sun again. He wanted to step into the light without fear.

Rooftops were speeding past in blurs. Dark could see them all at once. He was in a strange state of existence, feeling nothing but seeing everything--in a way, still paralyzed. Yet now he had no physical body. He was part of a greater being. And soon, he would be so much a part that he would lose himself entirely. There was little time left to Dark. In desperation, he cast his strange, new sight in a final, broader search for the place where he belonged.

And he saw it-- _him_ \--standing not far from the well that Dark had called home. It was the same face that haunted Dark’s dreams, only aged seven years. The same blue eyes, the same blonde hair… And there were two others with him: a figure cloaked in black, and a floating, bluish orb of light. All three of them resonated strongly with Dark. All three of them caught his attention--and the attention of his old master. The sword on the young man’s back was powerful, and the shadow that had sprouted from the well turned its sights towards the blade in hopes of harvesting its power.

This was exactly what Dark wanted, and he urged his master on. They were sweeping towards the young man at a high speed. They were almost there. Dark hoped the young man would be able to withstand the evil power heading towards him. Perhaps if he unsheathed his powerful blade, he would have a better chance. But the young man did no such thing. Instead, he spread his arms to his sides as if to embrace the danger heading towards him.

_Wait--_

They met, and the shadow swept through the young man as if there was a gash in his chest. It tried to latch onto the sword on his back, but recoiled at once when it felt the powerful light that made up both sword and wielder. There wasn’t a single bit of darkness in them to claim, and the shadow fled.

Dark tried to flee as well, but he was snagged. The gash had easily allowed the evil presence through the young man, but it closed for Dark--or rather, he fit into it too well to pass through. As the shadow of his former master sped away, Dark struggled within the young man’s arms. There was a blinding light around him. Dark screamed and tried to break free from it. He could feel himself being swept away into nothingness within that light. He didn’t want to fade away again. He didn’t want to forget again.

Yet Dark wasn’t forgetting. He was remembering. Memories flooded back to him. In a flash they hit him, and he was momentarily blinded by them. Each one passed in a blur, but lingered long enough for him to see them. He saw Navi--the bluish orb--attacking his cheek in anger. He felt a familiar dark power spark over him and tear his spirit in two when his hand left the protective power of the Master Sword. He saw himself reflected across the sword’s hilt.

And now he was seeing his reflection again through a red veil. He had hoped the Lens of Truth would reveal some hidden path in Ganondorf’s Tower. Instead, he had seen his reflection through the Lens, caught in a cracked mirror. Half of that reflection was solid and unchanged, but the other half was mere smoke.

Accusations flew between Hero and companion. Anger was released, tears were shed, and after forgiveness was finally granted, Link defeated Ganondorf and left the dark castle’s remains in search of his shadow.

“I couldn’t find you at first,” Link whispered below Dark’s screams of protest. “You were hidden in darkness, and Zelda told me I couldn’t rejoin with you unless a similar power to the one that separated us was found. But by remaining in the past, you made possible a second awakening for Bongo-Bongo in the same timeline. I defeated the first one, and you brought back a second. It brought you back to me.”

What was Link talking about? Was the dark presence Dark had fed Vaati to not the same one he had abandoned? Link had not just haunted Dark’s dreams; he had changed the very circumstances around him, and Dark had never noticed. It angered Dark, but the hands around him tightened, and he screamed his loudest yet when brightness swept over him. He didn’t want to join this glaring light. It was going to consume him whole.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Link continued to whisper. “We’re one and the same. You belong with me. You won’t fade away in we rejoin. You’re my shadow, and a shadow needs light if it’s to be cast.”

The words sounded right, and they were spoken in the kindest voice that Dark had heard since

_My name is Ella_

He wanted to believe the words. He wanted desperately to repair the gashes in his mind and body. He no longer fought the sense of belonging that was sweeping over him. He quieted his protests and sunk into the Hero’s light.

Link’s arms relaxed from where they were clutched tight around his chest. After a few deep breaths, he lifted his head and first looked up at Navi, who hovered in trepidation above him. “We’re one again,” Link told her, and Navi swooped down to kiss the cheek she had once attacked.

Link laughed and brushed Navi away with a playful hand. When he heard a soft sigh of relief to his left, he turned to look at the cloaked princess that stood beside him. “Zelda, lower your hood, please. Ganondorf is gone, and there’s no one around. It feels like I haven’t set eyes upon you in ages.”

Zelda lifted her hands and pushed back the deep hood of her cloak. Her warm smile radiated out at Link, and he relaxed in its light. Zelda’s bright, blue eyes focused on him, solidified him, and washed away the last of his fears and doubts. “You remember everything now,” Zelda said, and Link nodded. “You’re whole once more.”

Link nodded a second time and flashed Zelda an eager smile. She tilted her head in question when he next took out the Ocarina of Time. A familiar song floated up towards the sky, and in response it began to lighten with the rising sun. Its warm glow spilled over the walls of Kakariko Village, and Link spread his arms to bask in the light. On the grass behind him, his shadow mirrored the movement as if it, too, could feel the sun.


End file.
